The Prince & The Wizard
by Listelia
Summary: The flames have stopped burning atop the Northern Mountains. The dragons are not roaring anymore. There's only silence and snow, as far as the eye can see, swirling in the East Wind like white ashes. It's over. Emrys is dead. But Arthur has not forgotten the day they were torn apart and he'd do anything to bring the truth to light. Even trusting a stranger called Merlin...
1. Traveler

**TRAVELER  
**

* * *

It was said that no city was as vast nor as splendid as Camelot. It stretched across the plain as far as the eye could see, shining under the sun as if it were made of ice and frost.

The castle rose at its center like a white arrow, the scarlet oriflammes flapping in the wind at the top of the tall towers. The houses of the noble families were built along the road that went gently circling down to the town at the feet of the castle. They were grandiose, with marble arches, marvelously carved gargoyles, silk banners floating proudly and a swarm of servants in colorful liveries.

The streets were wide, paved and clean. Beneath the blue slate roofs were cooing pigeons and the air was always filled with a thousand pleasant smells: crispy bread just out of the oven, flowers still wet from dew, roasting meat, lavender wreaths and new leather boots, fresh laundry hanging across the streets over the heads of the passers-by.

Well-stocked stalls opened their shutters all along the main road that wound through the city for miles. People haggled and hailed each other. Here, they emptied a pint of ale while glancing at pretty girls, there they pulled out a large piece of cloth to cut it out. Further down, they were making a sturdy horse trot around to examine his hocks, a blacksmith was hammering hot iron, a crowd was watching a marvelous display of magic, children were slipping their hands in a wooden cage to touch the silky fur of a baby griffin caught in the enchanted Valley of Nemeth in the West.

Beyond the big gates of the city, when you left the ramparts behind and reached the first watch-point, the road split into three directions: the first led to the busy ports of Mercia on the glorious shores of the Great Sea in the South, the second to Essetir and the lush and mystical green forests of the East, the last one to the Kingdom of Caerleon, beyond the dark Northern Mountains.

Uther Pendragon ruled over Camelot. He was feared by his enemies and by his people. He had taken power forty years earlier during a bloody rebellion and sat on the throne after forcefully marrying his predecessor's niece. Under his iron glove, the country was prosperous and at peace.

Queen Ygraine had given her husband five sons and two daughters.

The eldest of the princes was called Leon. A living image of chivalry, he was working tirelessly for the good of the kingdom, with wisdom beyond his years. While the ministers sought to escape the king's wrath by concealing the truth when they made mistakes, Leon never hesitated to speak openly before his father, to denounce abuses or ask for reforms. The people of Camelot worshiped him and there were no girls who did not secretly dream of being loved by him.

The second prince was called Alined. His face was pale and blotted by excesses, his eyes narrow and yellowish. He had a high-pitched voice, a weak chin and was only interested in himself. His greed and appetite for pleasures were well known, and the results of his cruelty had needed sometimes to be smothered by a few gold coins. Although the king felt slightly annoyed in his presence, Alined, with his swivel tongue and his acting skills, could get away with almost everything.

The third prince was called Morgan. It was said of him that he was as handsome as a woman with his lithe waist, his delicate features, his long wavy ebony hair, his porcelain skin and his crystal-gray eyes – but he was also often compared to a cold marble statue. His lips were always pursed, he had very few friends and was terribly jealous of his older brothers – Leon for the love the people had for him, Alined because of their father's obvious indulgence. Morgan was constantly looking for a way to prove his worth. He was the only prince to master magic, which made the king wary of him and made him treat his son with little affection.

The fourth prince was called Mordred. He was born hunchbacked and lame, with a pale complexion like that of a dead man and unnatural eerie blue eyes that often made people uncomfortable. Rumor had it that the king, in a fit of rage, had thrown his wife down a flight of stairs during her pregnancy and that the child had been born malformed because of it. Uther Pendragon, in any case, did not like to see him or talk to him. Mordred did not seem to care about it and spent his time buried in the library of the castle, studying and reading.

The fifth prince, the youngest, was called Arthur. He adored Leon and followed him everywhere, mirroring all of his actions and speeches. If he did not have an ounce of magic, Arthur though was the most skilled among his brothers with a sword. Courageous but a little too impetuous, in his desire to make justice prevail and to save the widow and the orphan, he often drew toward himself the wrath of the king with an imprudent word. Fortunately, Leon came to his rescue each time and diverted the conversation before their father became angry.

The two princesses were very different as well.

The eldest one was named Morgause. Blonde, voluptuous, her lips a bright red, she was very beautiful, but haughty, calculating and very ambitious. The king never went against her wishes because he feared the excessive rage of his daughter during which, unleashing her magic, she could destroy a year's harvests. Morgause entertained a whole court of admirers who would have damned themselves for her, never choosing any of them but demanding from them a servile obedience to the least of her whims.

The youngest princess was named Freyja. She was much less pretty than her sister, with a mane of chestnut hair, freckles and caring brown eyes who laughed all the time. She loved to fight, to ride, to wade in mud pools looking for frogs or fireflies. She treated everyone the same way, noble or servant, and did not hesitate to meddle with the problems of the poorest, so the people loved her immensely. Although her parents could not make her see reason – the Queen often lamented of their younger daughter's escapades down town or of the huge tame panther that followed her everywhere and terrorized the courtiers – the King never managed to stay angry at his favorite daughter.

Prince Leon, Arthur, and Princess Freyja were keeping company to fourth Prince Mordred when bad weather kept them in the castle, but on sunny days, they went to visit the Earl of Ealdor, Lord Balinor, the commander-in-chief of the Royal Army.

The Earl's son, Emrys, had been knighted at a very young age. There was no one else like him in a hundred leagues around. As comfortable with a sword as with his fists, able to ward off a magic teeming with golden sparks that could ravage the battlefield like a phoenix, amazing rider, fearless, insolent but with a generous and brave heart, it was said of him that he could talk to dragons, sleep on ice and that his intelligence had no equal in the five kingdoms.

Emrys had sparkling blue eyes, a mop of unruly dark curls and a bright big smile always on his somewhat angular face. Since he was a few inches taller than Arthur, he seemed frailer, but the blond prince, although stocky and strong like a bear, did not always succeed in defeating him in single combat. Both were of the same age.

There was not the slightest difference between them, even though one was a soldier's son and the other a king's son. Since they were children, they had always been together: they had studied side by side, competed in archery, horse-riding and sword duels, had been punished as one when they were mischievous children and served many times in the army, saving each other's life on multiple occasions. They had no secrets for each other. They seldom fought for real but always reconciled, and had sworn to be friends all their life.

Freyja was always with those two. She was as strong as they were with a sword and she was never the last to get into trouble.

Uther Pendragon and the Earl of Ealdor had decided that when they were older, they would marry Emrys and Freyja – everyone thought this idea absolutely perfect, especially Arthur, who would always have his favorite little sister and his best friend by his side.

Lord Balinor's mansion was simple but comfortable, with tapestries depicting scenes of war or hunting on the stone walls, solid and practical oak furniture, a vast training ground for the knights, superb stables and an enclosed garden where stood a hundred-year-old plum tree. Leon liked to come here because one could feel under this roof, in spite of the martial way of life of the Earl, a true home. Often, ministers gathered there too, interested in the ideas of the eldest prince.

Lord Balinor, who was a good and wise man, often encouraged his second in command, Gwaine, to come and listen to the discussions. Gwaine was not of noble birth, and it was easy to see. It had been Leon who had spotted him while reviewing the city patrols and who had recommended him to the general. The knight laughed a lot and often made blunders while talking, but his courage, his swordsmanship and his experience of the battlefield were exceptional. Lord Balinor foresaw that he would one day make an excellent leader, and he strongly encouraged the friendship between his son and Gwaine, who was only a little older than Emrys.

Everything seemed perfectly fine when Emrys and Arthur celebrated their nineteenth birthday, that spring. But while the two boys were trying out their new swords, and Freyja was prancing on her horse, the panther leaping around trying to catch the pink petals swirling in the breeze and Gwaine was laughing loudly as he watched them, Leon and Lord Balinor could not help frowning as they thought of the current situation in Camelot.

That year, things were not as calm and happy as they seemed: the king had started to notice how much the people loved the eldest prince. He had noticed that the ministers were listening to him and approving almost blindly to all his suggestions. Uther Pendragon was a jealous and suspicious man, and although anyone could see that Leon was serving him faithfully, he could not help wondering if his son would not suddenly rebel and take the throne from him...

There were people in the Court who did not like the eldest prince because he never accepted their gifts, refused to pretend not to notice their sordid little affairs and openly accused them when they were acting against the interest of the people, the country or the king. These people got along very well with Prince Alined and knew how to manipulate Uther Pendragon, but they had come to realize they would never be able to do what they wanted as long as Leon was there – and even less after he would become king himself.

The cruelest and most ambitious of them all was the chief of the secret services, Baron Agravaine. He hated Leon because the prince had prevented him several times from carrying out his shenanigans or from unfairly mistreating the prisoners entrusted to his care. Agravaine knew exactly how wary the king was of his son's popularity, so he devised a plan to get rid of Leon, as well as of all the people who loved him and could possibly defend him in front of his father...

In summer, that year, Freyja and Emrys got officially engaged and it became obvious to all that if this had been their parents' choice at first, it was now very much their own as well.

Then winter came and war broke out at the ports of Mercia and on Caerleon's border at the same time. Lord Balinor divided the army in two. To the South, where the fight would be mainly at sea against the Great White Dragon and the pirates, he sent thirty thousand men with Gwaine and Prince Arthur.

The remaining seventy thousand men left for the North with the Earl of Ealdor and his son Emrys, who was in charge of his own battalion, _the Scarlet Wings_ , for already three years.

Emrys and Arthur parted laughing: the Earl's son made the prince promise to bring him back the biggest pearl he would find in the cerulean waters of the Great Sea and the latter jokingly told him not to catch a cold in the icy Northern Mountains.

Then the two armies went opposing ways, leaving behind Camelot. The wind had risen on the white plain and was violently shaking the red and golden banners.

In the South, the enemy proved stronger than they had expected, so Gwaine and Arthur had to fight all winter long to protect the country. They came back as heroes. Prince Morgan, who had joined them at the later time, distinguished himself by submitting the Great Sea Serpent but received no other reward than the beast itself. As for Freyja, whom her father had sent there to negotiate peace agreements, she found herself protecting a fort on her own at some point of the battle, with only a handful of men, and although she was barely seventeen years old, she showed such courage and such wits that upon her return, her father named her general and granted her a small army.

But the princess did not rejoice at this honor, because when they came back, Arthur, Gwaine, and herself heard terrible news.

During their absence, the King had received a letter exposing the intention of Leon to take the throne by force with Lord Balinor's help. The letter said that instead of fighting the enemy, the seventy thousand men sent to the North had rallied to Caerleon and intended to march on Camelot. The secret services had hastened to conduct their inquiries, and Baron Agravaine had discovered overwhelming evidence against the Earl of Ealdor and the eldest prince.

Mad with rage, the king had had his own son executed and he had sent ten thousand men to slaughter the rebels.

Arthur, Gwaine and Freyja could not believe it: Emrys, his father and Prince Leon were dead and it was forbidden to speak of them from now on. Everything had collapsed while they had been away and, in a few months, they had lost a brother, their best friend and an army of brave men.

Prince Arthur tried desperately to ask the King to open up a new investigation, but he did not avail. He managed only to draw to himself the hatred of his father who, from now on, sent him into battle as soon as came the opportunity, so he would not always be reminded that _perhaps_ he had made a mistake in so hastily sentencing to death his own son, as well as a general who had always been faithful until then.

Freyja was appointed to protect Mercia and she swore she would never marry. Her father, annoyed by her stubbornness and unsettled by her silent reproachful gaze, was very glad not to see her too often.

Gwaine remained at Court, for the Earl of Ealdor had made him promise to watch over Camelot if anything happened to him during the war. As he did his work faithfully, never mentioning the dreadful case, he earned the King's trust and was finally granted the title of general. The knight lived up to the task. He never asked for anything, but when he had a few days off, he would go spend them in Essetir. And when he returned from the forests of the East, it was always with a strange expression on his face, a mixture of hope, determination and deep sadness.

Uther Pendragon made his second son, Alined, the Crown Prince. But to ensure a balance in power, he suddenly began to pay attention to his third son, Morgan, setting off jealousies and complicated stories in the castle, while the two men were struggling to gain power over the courtiers and ministers. The country started to decay. The people were treated with indifference or injustice, they were poor and hungry and nobody cared for their lives. Revolt rumbled and Agravaine crushed the dissatisfied attempts at changing things with the secret services, throwing in prison or executing those who tried to raise their voices or their fists.

The only person the baron left alone was Arthur, because he knew the prince was not loved by the King and that every time the young man opened his mouth to report to his father the misfortunes of the people, Uther Pendragon would get angry and sent him on a military campaign as far as possible.

Twelve years had elapsed and the story of the army massacred at the Northern Frontier and the betrayal of Prince Leon had gradually fallen into oblivion, when a winter morning, a small cart stopped at the gates of Camelot. The guards who were shivering in the cold wind asked the sullen fourteen-year-old boy who was driving for the official papers and they cast a curious glance at the man buried in warm furs who was dozing on the back seat, looking pale and weak.

The papers told them that the traveler was called Merlin and, in his luggage, the guards found erudite books, maps of the kingdom and of the neighboring countries, ink, brushes, paper, warm clothes, a lot of medicinal herbs and a small wooden box that the young driver of the cart tore from their hands and did not want them to examine. They were about to fight with him and pull out their swords when the traveler awoke and called off the feral kid.

\- "Come here, Daegal. Let them look at it, they won't break any of your things, I promise", he said firmly.

With a frightful scowl, Daegal obeyed and the guards opened the box carefully under his blazing eyes, to find it only contained wooden toys.

Meanwhile, Princess Freyja, who was coming back from Mercia with her troops, had stopped to see what this crowd was about. Someone quickly explained the problem to her and the princess came forward to greet the traveler and tell him the guards of the city were only doing their job.

But the boy blocked her way. Stubbornly, he said only two words: "Sick, cold", pointing at the pale young man who was clinging to the cart as if not to fall. Freyja understood right away. She nodded, scattered the guards then returned to the cart which curtains had been pulled once the traveler had returned inside and Daegal climbed back into the driver's seat.

\- "Welcome to Camelot, sir," said the princess, bowing though no one could see her. "May I ask how long you intend to stay and what is the purpose of your coming to our great city?"

Freyja knew the guards needed these answers but she could see that the boy could not answer clearly and that the situation would drag on.

The curtains did not open but a soft voice answered.

\- "I thank the princess. I have a chronic illness and I am here to rest and nurse my health. I will be found at the inn for the moment, but I intend to buy a house and to settle for a while in the city."

Freyja nodded and motioned for the cart to pass. Daegal glared at the guards, then he lightly shook the reins and the horse headed for the city center.

The curtains fluttered open, but Freyja did not see the weary face of the traveler nor his eyes bright with unshed tears, because at that moment, one of the guards squealed, looking at the register:

\- "Oh! _Merlin_... but I know that name! I heard about him, they call him _the Wizard of the East River_. Tis said he's got no magic whatsoever but that there's no one as clever and astute then him in the whole country. There're even some rumors saying that whoever heeds his advice will surely become the next king of Camelot! I wonder if he'll help the Crown Prince or support Prince Morgan to change the King's mind about his successor..."

Freyja thought sadly that, no matter which prince the mysterious traveler would choose, the Country would probably remain in the same misery if the next ruler was anything like Uther Pendragon...

A few days later, word that the wisest man in the world had come to Camelot spread like wildfire and gifts began to flow to the inn where the Wizard of the East River had come to stay. But none was accepted. No one could go through the bedroom door either, because Daegal, although small and thin, was fighting against anyone who tried to force the passage – and it soon became apparent that the young bodyguard had to be the _strongest_ _warrior_ in the world.

Finally, however, someone managed to cross the forbidden threshold and to meet the famous Merlin. This man was Gwaine who had come to ensure this traveler was no threat to the kingdom.

The general was unusually strong and agile, yet he did have some trouble to defeat the young door keeper. But he won in the end and, delighted he had found an opponent worthy of him, came in with a big smile on his face, stroking his beard with one hand, a kicking and grunting Daegal stuck under his other arm.

Merlin was at the window, dressed in a white coat with gray fur on the collar. His long black hair was carefully combed and tied on the back of his neck.

He motioned for the boy to stop struggling.

\- "Peace, Daegal," he said gently but firmly. "You can parry with your new friend again later, let us talk now."

Daegal stamped his foot, but he lowered his eyes and went to sit in a corner of the room. The general looked curiously at him opening his toy box, then he turned to the frosty window and met Merlin's cobalt blue eyes.

\- "Good morning, Gwaine," said the wizard in a low voice.

And Gwaine crossed in a few steps the space which separated them to hug him impetuously.

\- "You're back!" he blurted, overwhelmed by emotion.

\- "You're crushing me, my friend", Merlin laughed softly.

The general let go of him immediately and he mumbled an excuse as he turned to quickly wipe a tear from the back of his sleeve.

\- "If you're back, it means... _that_ time has come", he said when they sat down.

Merlin nodded gravely and he put down the steaming tea-pot.

\- "The time has come," he repeated. "The truth will finally come to the light."

His blue eyes were burning with an indomitable flame, but there was immense sadness on his face.

\- "When we're done, they will be able to rest in peace, but it won't bring them back..." he whispered, watching the white swirls of steam over their cups.

Gwaine nodded. He wished he could have found encouraging words, but he was not very good at expressing himself, so he only dared to say:

\- "At least Princess Freyja and Arthur will..."

Merlin's thin, pale face tightened and two fever spots blossomed on his cheekbones.

\- "They must know _nothing_ , Gwaine!" he cried. "Nothing, do you hear me? If they knew who I am, they'd think only of protecting me and then everything would _fail_ , we'd never be able to change things and save Camelot!"

Daegal saw that he had gotten up and he rushed towards them, growling, ready to defend his master. Merlin lifted a weary hand to stop him, then leaned on him to sit down heavily. He looked already exhausted.

\- "I don't have much time, Gwaine," he muttered. "Do you understand? I'm sorry, but that secret, I have to ask you to keep it to yourself, no matter the pain."

The general lowered his eyes. His voice was hoarse when he answered.

\- "I promise you."

There was a heavy silence, then Merlin smiled.

\- "I have a mission to entrust you. I can't stay in this inn with all these gifts that keep piling up at my door. I will also soon be receiving famous _visitors_. I need a house... with a _special_ feature... I told you a bit about it in my last letter, didn't I?"

Gwaine grinned back.

\- "I see what you mean," he said, winking. "I'll find you just the thing by tomorrow! And then you'll be able to see each other whenever you desire so, without anyone knowing of your secret affair."

Merlin almost choked on his tea. He put down his cup, wiped his lips, then sighed, rolling his eyes.

\- Please try to refrain from putting it like this.

But there was a twinkling in his cobalt orbs, like in the old days, and Gwaine would have played the fool for a lifetime if this was the only way he would again get a glimpse of the friend he had lost.

* * *

 ** _TBC_ **

* * *

_**Next chapter : DEAL  
**_


	2. Deal

**DEAL**

* * *

Two days later, the innkeeper – who was very sorry he had had to let go of this customer who brought him so many idlers eager to drink a beer while they were chatting and making all sorts of assumptions – had to explain many times that the Wizard of the East River had moved to a large residence on _Caltrop Street_.

The house was rather ugly and its gardens had been abandoned for years. Even Prince Morgan, who was the epitome of suavity, did not manage to find a compliment that did not sound completely hollow when he came to visit the following week.

Merlin just smiled quietly as he walked beside him, wrapped in a warm woolen coat despite the pleasant temperature of that late-winter afternoon.

Frost was glittering on the bare branches of the trees and the not very well trimmed lawn looked like verdigris velvet.

\- "I heard my brother, Crown Prince Alined, came to visit you as well," Prince Morgan ventured. "If he did not offer the services of his gardener, who is excellent I must say, I'd like to offer you those of mine."

\- "Thank you, Your Highness, but this is too great a favor," said Merlin. "My people will not be long in arriving in town and they'll take care of the place. My health does not allow me to stay outside too long, anyway, I could hardly enjoy a garden, even magnificent."

Prince Morgan immediately offered wishes of good health, wondering how this strange man managed to live with only that frightening half-mute bodyguard as a valet. He himself could never have spent a day without at least ten or twenty people to look after his precious person...

\- "If your Highness can bear being introduced in my home by people as unworthy of her as my poor servants, I'd be pleased to speak with your Highness anytime, about anything you'd wish to talk to me about," continued Merlin quietly.

Prince Morgan hastened to assure him that he found Daegal's devotion wonderful, was not at all offended at being greeted at the door by mere peasants if it was Merlin's fancy to live that way and that he would be delighted to come back - _next week, perhaps? On Monday? Tuesday? Or tomorrow, if it was fine with the Wizard...?_

Merlin laughed softly and promised the third prince that he was welcome as often as he wished. Then he led him to the door when Morgan took his leave and stood on the steps until the prince's carriage had gone around the corner of the street.

Only then he closed the door, stumbled a few steps down to the little courtyard in front of the house and vomited, to the great dismay of Daegal who began to pat his back, frantically repeating:

\- "Doctor? Big Fellow? Doctor! Merlin sick! I go get Big Fellow!"

\- "It's nothing... don't be scared..." Merlin weakly said after a while. He sat down heavily under the porch, wiped his mouth with disgust, and drank some of the water the frightened boy had fetched from the kitchen. "Don't worry, no need to go get Gwaine or Gaius, I'm fine, it's just that... I didn't think it'd be so hard to bear with this viper's poison."

\- "Viper!" Daegal repeated with conviction, his round eyes blazing.

\- "You can't say that in front of him, remember? Merlin said sternly. "We must always be welcoming, whether he or the crown prince come."

\- "Slug!" Daegal grumbled disgustedly.

Merlin laughed in spite of himself, then he began to cough and had to rest a few moments. He leaned his head against the wooden pillar behind him and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Gwaine's worried face was leaning over him.

\- "Did you not hear the bell?" asked the general, helping Merlin up and leading him inside the house. "Daegal let me in without challenging me, you must have scared him good... Your hands are frozen! It's cold, you shouldn't stay outside, young captain."

\- "Get in the habit of calling me Merlin, Gwaine. We can't risk _someone_ inadvertently hearing this title", mumbled the young man, leaning heavily on his friend. "Especially since... soon... when all is ready… _Phase Two_ will begin..."

It was not until spring and an official announcement of the king that the conditions necessary for launching _Phase Two_ were brought together. Meanwhile, Merlin had not wasted his time. He was now well known in Camelot and the two princes who competed for succession to the throne were showing up at his house at any time of the day.

Merlin listened to their lamentations patiently and gave them advices. But they listened only to what interested them: they wanted to know who was sold to their rival among the ministers, but cared little to clean up their own entourage.

To their annoyance, for each success one met, the other met one too and they would have _really_ liked for the Wizard of the East to hurry in choosing which one of them he wanted to support. But they did not realize they were _both_ losing slowly the favor of the king. Indeed, each time they reported a case of corruption in the opposite camp, a minister who did not do his duty and was harming the well-being of the country, their father was getting more and more annoyed with them.

The first green buds were showing up on the trees in the royal gardens when Princess Morgause managed to slither in the king's mind the idea that he should marry off princess-general Freyja before the knights who adored her would put her on the throne.

Uther Pendragon therefore issued an edict, stating that anyone who would have defeated all his opponents in the tournament that would take place in May and would be able to defeat the princess _also_ during the final fight could marry her. For the first time, then, Prince Arthur, advised by Gwaine, knocked at Merlin's door to ask him how to get his sister out of this mess.

Indeed, the princess was perhaps very strong in combat, but she was not safe from losing, especially as warriors all more powerful than the other flocked to Camelot from everywhere, even from neighboring countries. Moreover, the prince was convinced that Morgause, if she felt it necessary some reason, was quite capable of making her sister drink a potion to weaken her before she would entered the lists.

For a few minutes, Merlin seemed lost deep in thought, and Prince Arthur respected his silence, while Gwaine squirmed uncomfortably on his cushion in a corner of the room.

Then Merlin turned to the prince and his cobalt gaze bored into the sapphire blue eyes of the blond man.

\- "I can do something to save Princess Freyja, of course," he said in a strange tone.

\- " _But_? I suppose there's a 'but'. What are your conditions?" asked Prince Arthur.

His voice was cold. He thought the Wizard of the East River had come to Camelot only to stir up trouble and fuel the quarrels between Alined and Morgan, and he had resigned himself to seeking his advice only because he could _not_ find a way to protect his sister on his own.

\- "Is your Highness satisfied with the way the country is right now? Merlin asked, staring intently at his interlocutor. "Does your Highness think the people are happy? Can your Highness be satisfied with the limited power in his hands, while other more powerful take what does not belong to them and crush, humiliate, steal from the weak and poor?"

Prince Arthur frowned. His heart had started pounding. He had been so frustrated for years over the fact he could not do anything and suddenly... _suddenly, maybe_...

This clear and piercing gaze was fascinating him, reminding him of another pair of blue eyes... _What did this man mean? Why did he feel he could trust him?_ It was just a stranger, who was probably more concerned with manipulating the political powers rather than rescuing children who were dying of hunger and cold in the streets.

\- "Perhaps your Highness heard what is said of me in Camelot," Merlin said calmly, pouring himself a cup of tea. "It is claimed that whoever will receive my guidance will be the next king."

Arthur snorted.

 _Oh, people were saying all sorts of crazy things in town, indeed_. They were pretending for example that the Wizard of the East River could order around the Emerald Dragon of the misty forests. That was so preposterous! As if a frail man like this one would have had the heart of fire needed to make such a mighty creature yield at his will… even _Morgan_ was struggling to keep his power over the White Serpent of the Sea and yet he had many sorcerers by his side. How could _Merlin_ , who did not possess even the smallest thread of magic, dream of such a deed?

Only a real wizard could touch a dragon's heart… _Emrys_ could have.

Arthur still remembered well when his best friend, only nine at the time, had convinced him to sneak down to the dungeons to see the dragon chained there since Uther had overtook the throne of Camelot.

The beast, at first, had not tried to harm them. Maybe it was because they were only children, but Arthur strongly believed the mystical creature had been _fascinated_ by the bright smile and the clever blue eyes – like everyone always was. But then, when the dragon had understood Arthur was Uther Pendragon's son, it had roared with rage.

Leon had saved them from the flames, that day – but not from the king's wrath. Actually, his brother had even added more wood to that other fire. Emrys, as usual, had tried to sweet-talk his way out of the punition, until Arthur, feeling this would end really bad, had stepped in – like often – and shouldered most of the responsibility of their stupid excursion to the dungeons.

 _Well, he was a day and a half older, after all. It was his job to protect his friend…_

With a pang of distress, Arthur realized his mind had strayed again to the past and, steeling himself, he came back to the present.

Merlin was still waiting, like if it was the prince's turn to say something.

\- "Who, then, did you decide to serve?" scoffed the blond young man. "Prince Morgan, Prince Alined?"

The wizard lifted up his eyes and stared at him again.

He was coughing from time to time and seemed to be constantly cold. His thick gray wool robes and the white fur on his collar could not hide how frail and bony he was. One could see all the bluish veins under the paper-thin skin of his hands. He looked so weak and yet... there was a formidable fire in his eyes, an incredible strength.

\- "I chose _you_."

Arthur took a few seconds to understand what he had just heard. Then he frowned, clearing his throat.

\- "Why?"

\- "Because your Highness has a pure and upright heart. Because in your hands Camelot will rise again. Because you have not forgotten Prince Leon and the seventy thousand men who died in the Northern Mountains."

The exalted voice of the wizard had trembled slightly at the last sentence.

It was this, more than the words, which finally convinced the Prince that the Wizard of the East River was perhaps sincere when he claimed he had at heart the good of the people and the kingdom.

\- "Well, then," Arthur said. "My sister vowed not to get married years ago. If you can allow her to keep her promise without her getting into trouble with our father, then I'll listen to your advices."

He paused.

\- "Yes, I want things to change," he continued in a low, hoarse voice. "Yes, if you can make the King remember me and give me the opportunity to serve my country, I'm ready to listen to you, but let me warn you: I will _never_ do anything that is dishonest, treacherous or amoral, and I will not ascend the throne unless my father _voluntarily_ places me on it."

\- "I understand, your Highness," said Merlin, bowing.

Arthur leaned over to pick up his cup and he drank his tea with a grimace, which prevented him from seeing that behind him, on his cushion, Gwaine was finally breathing again.

Saving the princess from a wedding she did not want was just child's play for someone as clever as the Wizard of the East River. Merlin began by mentioning casually to the Crown Prince that if his future brother-in-law was only brute force, the royal family reunions would soon get very boring. Alined, who could not live without highly abstracted discussions and languid songs immediately started to whine and to ask his father to find a way to prevent such a terrible outcome. To his surprise, the next day, Prince Morgan suggested the idea of a formal literary examination to sort out the future suitors.

Finally, Princess Freyja herself came to ask the King to have the test contents supervised by a scholar - _and oh, how convenient! Wasn't the wisest man in the world in town at the moment?_

Uther Pendragon, delighted to have a reason to see from close someone so very famous, immediately summoned the wizard to the Castle, granted him the title of _Sir Merlin, official of the Court_ , and graciously offered him to compose the subject of the written examination to which the candidates would submit.

Queen Ygraine found the Wizard of the East River absolutely charming, and silenced her daughter Morgause, who was snickering at the very plain robes of the man and at his obvious poor health, with an annoyed slap of her fan.

And so it was decided - and even faster over.

The candidates fought during the tournament to the delight of the people, then the winners sweated and scraped paper for hours under the impassive gaze of Sir Merlin and the surveillance of the Minister of Education, who was scratching his ear from time to time, as if something were bothering him, but that he could not find exactly what.

The results were given by a herald a few days later.

The princess having unfortunately defeated _– beaten to a pulp_ would have been a more exact description – all her adversaries in singular combat, the marriage would not take place.

Prince Arthur returned to the shabby residence on _Caltrop Street_ and, after staying silent for a long time, his hands on his knees, his back very straight, he finally bowed slightly.

\- "You saved my sister, like you promised. I am now ready to listen to you."

For a while, Merlin looked at these strong features, at the blond hair, the square chin, the thin lips which used to laugh often and now were always pursed bitter, at the broad shoulders on which he was going to put a heavy load… and then a strange smile, at the same time sad and ironic, appeared on his pale face.

\- "It was my pleasure, your Highness. The princess had made a promise, it was only natural to allow her to remain faithful to it. But I dare hope one day she will find someone worthy of her heart, to replace the loved one she once lost..."

Arthur did not answer, but he looked away and his fists clenched up.

\- "I am honored by your Highness' trust," said Merlin. "Now I must urge you to be very careful. Your Highness and I must remain two strangers from now on, otherwise your brethren will immediately guess your ambition."

The prince nodded.

\- "I understand. I will be careful when I'll visit you."

As he was leaving, he glimpsed a small figure leaping above the wall that surrounded the house. He turned around, ready to sound the alarm: _a thief in broad daylight, how daring! It probably was someone dangerous. Maybe a spy of one of his brothers..._

But Gwaine, who had also come that day, was standing in the small courtyard, laughing loudly with his hands on his hips rather than pulling out his sword: Arthur, stunned, realized he had not heard him laugh so sincerely in _years_. Merlin, under the porch, was shaking his head gently, tucking his hands in his long sleeves.

The prince frowned, then relaxed when he saw that the intruder was only the weird boy who served as valet and bodyguard to the wizard – the only one who could stand up to Gwaine in all Camelot.

Daegal jumped down from the roof, landing without a sound in front of his master and proudly offered him a budding branch of plum tree.

\- "Thank you," Merlin said, patting his head affectionately. "But you must stop stealing flowers from other gardens to give them to me. Wait a bit and we'll have a nice garden too, where you can pick anything you want."

Daegal didn't look like he had gotten the point, but he nodded, then lightly climbed back to the roof with a handful of hazelnuts that he proceeded to crack open, throwing a sharp glance at the prince from time to time.

\- "It's going to take a while for him to get used to you," Gwaine's voice said next to Arthur, pulling him out of his thoughts. "He's a funny little lad, more ferocious than a lion, but who'd follow the c… Sir Merlin everywhere like a newborn duckling. He saved him, you know."

\- "Who saved who?"

\- "We saved each other," said Merlin, who had come up to them. He smiled. "Daegal is not just a servant, he's like a younger brother to me. But I have not disciplined him enough. My apologies, Your Highness, the beautiful gift he brought me might actually come from your garden."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, surprised.

Merlin gestured at the cloud of pink flowers that were the plum trees on the other side of the wall. Their branches were gently waving and delicately scenting the breeze, creating a magical landscape with the eternal snow on the distant dark mountains.

\- "Your Highness may not have realized it, but... although the doorsteps of our houses are on different streets and quite far apart, we are actually neighbors."

There was a hint of challenge in the eyes of the wizard and the prince noticed it. He scoffed, pointing at the buckets of mud and the tools cluttering the small courtyard.

\- "Well, I guess it's a good thing you did not finish renovating, then. Like this, if you want to... let's say… add a window ... or a door somewhere, it will be more convenient."

Merlin grinned almost impishly.

\- "Pray Your Highness excuse us, we might be a bit noisy for a few days and perhaps disturb the sleep of the prince during our... works. But may your Highness rest assured, when it's all over, the prince can come wake me up at any time, I will be ready to answer his questions."

 _"He had it planned from the beginning!"_ Arthur thought with a short, almost involuntary laugh when he arrived at his own house after the long detour the streets of the city imposed on him. " _As if he did not have the slightest doubt I would accept his proposal... He is a very intelligent man, I must be very careful."_

Careful until he would find out Merlin's actual motivations, but also careful of the invitation to friendship in the wizard's blue eyes. Arthur knew that although he was certain of the loyalty of his knights, he could not trust anyone in this town completely, except for Gwaine and his sister Freyja.

But he could not tell the princess he had decided to engage in the fight for the succession to the throne, because he knew she would support him and put herself in danger...

\- "I'll support you, no matter how dangerous it gets," Freyja said abruptly the next morning, when they were having breakfast together in his personal residence. "I always thought you were the perfect choice to succeed our father after... after Leon was gone. But I want you to do something for me: let me meet Sir Merlin in person, far from the Court."

Arthur coughed to get rid of the water he had swallowed through his nose.

\- "How did you...?"

\- "It dawned on me when I saw your face this morning. You looked... different. Resolved. A bit like the face who put on before you go to war, but I know our borders are at peace right now. There could only be one other reason... I'm glad you set your mind unto it. Camelot needs you."

\- "Sir Merlin can be very convincing," snorted the prince. "I thought it was because I went to his place twice already..."

The princess shrugged.

\- "Everyone went to see him, but you did not send any gifts and you visited him with the general – one cannot really say it's the behavior of a pretender to the throne. Nobody is going to get any ideas", she said lightly. "At most, they'll think you were checking his background. Nobody's cares about what you're doing anyway, a mere child could see you do not have the king's favor."

Her brother had a small, bitter sigh.

\- "You're right. And Sir Merlin said so too."

\- "Did he mention _why_ he chose _you_?" asked the princess curiously. "If he wanted glory and power, it would have been much simpler for him to serve Morgan or Alined."

\- "I can't grasp it either," Arthur said thoughtfully. "This man is very mysterious and I hope I'm not wrong in deciding to listen to his advice."

\- "Find a way for me to meet him", Freyja insisted. "I want to talk to him and thank him personally for helping us with this ridiculous wedding."

Her brother finally gave in and, two days later, he sent a message to the wizard, asking him to meet the princess outside the city, where the roads separated.

A small wooden pavilion stood there, looking down at the great city down below. In the immense green plain, the castle towers were soaring proudly. The spiral white walls were speckled in pink by the plum trees in bloom at this time of the year and the blue slates of the houses were shining under the sun. The dark mountains, in the distance, were shrouded in mist. The forest of Essetir began beyond the post, swallowing up the travelers as they galloped past the pointed roof washed by the rains.

Freyja jumped lightly from her carriage and said a few words to the servant who had come with her before climbing the hill to meet those who were waiting for her. The sun was gleaming on the silver beads laced in her silky chestnut hair. She was dressed very simply, as usual, but the large flaps of embroidered silk of her sleeves and skirts were gracefully dancing with each of her steps.

In her small but firm hand, she was holding her sword.

Daegal felt Merlin lean more heavily on him and he looked up, puzzled. The young man wiped a drop of sweat on his pale forehead, then motioned to the boy that everything was fine and straightened up, smiling at the princess as he bowed.

\- "My lady."

She watched him cautiously for a few moments.

\- "Sir Merlin."

He held her gaze without blinking. Daegal scrunched up his nose, because his master's pulse was accelerating alarmingly, but Merlin gently squeezed his hand, pulled him away from him, and ordered him away.

\- "My lady wanted to meet me."

\- "Yes," the princess said. "I wanted to thank you in person. It was extremely clever of you to suggest a dissertation on the art of maintaining diplomatic relationships. Contrary to you, none of my suitors had figured that the king was afraid of a rebellion on my part with the army stationed in the South – so all of them ranted about seeking alliances with our borders!"

She snickered.

\- "Even if I had not managed to defeat them all in singular combat after the examination, my father would never have allowed me to marry someone so eager to be friendly neighbors with our enemies!"

Merlin was looking at her with admiration and she blushed a bit under that clear blue gaze, without knowing why. To hide her fluster, she took a few steps, haloed by the golden light of the late afternoon, then turned to him again.

\- "Watch over my brother, please," she said. "He needs a friend by his side and something tells me that even if you can't replace the one he lost so long ago, your advice will be of great help to him. We need to save this country, but until then no one had thought of Arthur for that great task… nor managed to give him the courage to stand for the throne. I wanted to thank you for that."

The young man nodded. He seemed strangely moved by her words, and the princess felt consolidated in her hunch: he _was_ someone good. But one could not be too careful.

\- "Remember, however, that if you harm him the slightest, I _will_ find you," she added with a simplicity that would have thrown a shiver down the spine of the most seasoned assassin.

Daegal felt this murderous aura and he leapt to his master's side. But Merlin was not scared. On the contrary, he was grinning, almost like someone struggling not to laugh.

\- "I'll remember that, Princess."

\- "Good", Freyja said, lifting her chin regally. She pointed to the cart waiting next to her carriage. "It's time to go our separate ways. I'll let you leave first, the evening is cool and your health is not good."

Daegal grunted in approval. She smiled as she took into account the ruffled ponytail of the boy, his round eyes firmly fixed on her, the alertness in the slightest of his movements – and also the rough tenderness in his way of supporting his master.

\- "You have a good servant," she said.

\- "Not servant, guard!" protested the angry child.

But Merlin soothed him, stroking his hair.

\- "Not _guard_ , brother", he corrected. "Little brother."

\- "Hum," said Daegal, satisfied. "Little brother. Guard!"

Freyja laughed.

\- "I see," she said. She bowed, bringing both her hands in front of her, still holding her sword. "Have a safe journey home. I hope we'll have other opportunities to meet, sir."

Merlin just bowed back.

She walked him down the hill, worried that he would slip in the wet grass and the growing darkness. Daegal was supporting him, grumbling in a low voice. Freyja's servant had lighted a lantern and she was waiting, leaning in between the half opened curtains of the carriage, rubbing her gnarled hands together to warm them up. Her face was shriveled like the skin of an old apple and her affectionate eyes almost disappeared in her wrinkles. She had very white hair and, with the yellow embroideries on her brown linen dress, it was not difficult to guess who she was.

The princess, apparently, did not have complete trust in her household, for her to bring her nurse to the appointment rather than a simple maid.

\- "It's cold, Alice, take shelter," said Freyja. "I'm coming in a minute."

But the woman was not listening to her. She had gasped and now she was raising the lantern.

\- "Who... how… oh, Gods have mercy…" She stammered. "How is it possible?"

Freyja frowned.

\- "What's the matter, Alice?" she asked. "Have you seen a ghost? And if it's bandits, you know I'll be enough to protect us both."

She seemed to remember something and turned to Merlin.

\- "To protect all _three_ of us, if Daegal hasn't already taken care of whoever scared my silly nurse," she added agreeably.

Then the smile died on her lips. Merlin, petrified, was staring at the nurse who was shaking like a leaf.

\- "Come here," Alice stammered. "Come closer… don't you recognize me? _I_ did not forget you... poor dear… my bright, bright child…"

She was sobbing, now. She patted her chest, held out her hands.

\- Oh, may the Gods strike us if we forget about all of you... come here, my darling... come here, Emrys…"

* * *

 ** _TBC…_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter: BROKEN BOW_**


	3. Broken bow

**BROKEN BOW**

* * *

Freyja stifled a cry and brought her hand to her mouth.

Daegal frowned, disturbed by the silent crying of the old woman. Her old shoulders were shaking with grief, her hands were still stretched.

Merlin was so pale it looked like he was about to faint.

Night had fallen completely now, and the lantern was casting its warm glow on their faces as the cold breeze made the flame of the candle dance.

\- "What does that mean?" stuttered Freyja.

\- "Emrys of Ealdor died on the Northern Frontier's battlefield twelve years ago," said Merlin in a hoarse voice. "You're confused, grandmother."

His long eyelashes were hiding his blue eyes that dared not look up.

\- "I cannot be wrong," wept the old nurse. "My three lambs… I looked after you for _years_... I've seen you grow up... I scolded you, I comforted you... I knew your childhood secrets and carried your love letters... I prepared your snacks everyday… I took care of your first scratches when you learned to run and I watched over you when you had a fever from your war wounds..."

A sob choked in her throat. She clasped her hands, begging.

\- "I know every single detail of your faces and I cannot be wrong even if yours has changed so much that no one, my poor, poor angel, could imagine that the handsome and valiant Emrys, the young captain who was the pride of Camelot is now... now…"

\- "I'm not him", Merlin insisted.

But the effort that cost him this phrase made him stagger. His knuckles whitened on Daegal's arm. The boy did not understand what was happening and was watching him anxiously.

\- "Merlin sad," he said. He furrowed his thick black eyebrows and glared at the old woman and the princess. "Granny shut up, we go."

Freyja shuddered.

\- "No", she said, inhaling sharply. "No one will leave this place until I'm know exactly what's happening."

She took a step forward, picked up the lantern from the cart and lifted it to light up the wizard's face. Her beautiful eyes narrowed, she bit her lips.

\- "Look at me," she ordered.

He did not move. He was shaking and Daegal, getting more and more annoyed, clenched his fists, ready to fight. He opened his mouth with the firm intention of yelling something rude.

\- "Look at me," the princess said again at the same time, but now it was almost a plea.

Merlin finally straightened up and his blue eyes, shining with tears, met those of the young woman.

Freyja swayed. She stepped back, almost dropping the lantern.

\- "Impossible," she spluttered.

She staggered, caught herself on the cart, sinking her nails into the wood.

\- "Emrys?"

Her voice was only a breath.

\- "The one you remember is dead," muttered the young man with infinite sadness.

\- "No", mumbled Freyja. "No... you survived... one way or another, you _survived_ and you came back... you're back..."

She rushed to him, rolled up his sleeve to look at his arm, pushing away Daegal who yelped in anger.

A moan of distress welled up in the princess's throat.

\- "There was a scar here," she stuttered. "From when you were fifteen and almost lost your life to save me from that boar. Where is it gone?"

She tugged on his collar to look at his neck, looking for the mark of the magic that had dazzled Camelot for years.

But there was nothing there too.

Tears were streaming freely on Freyja's delicate face, now.

\- "It's you, I can feel it... I _know_ it... but what happened to you?" she cried, her fists crumpling the clothes of the young man who was standing in front of her, oh so very silent, with so much sorrow in his blue eyes. "What did they do to you? Where did your magic go? What happened that winter? Why did the king condemn you all?"

Her voice broke.

\- "Why did you not come back sooner?" she sobbed, wrapping her arms around him. "I missed you… I missed you _so much_ …"

Like a dam giving way at the very last drop of water, he yielded and with a deep sigh, hugged her back and buried his face in her chestnut hair, hiding the tears that were finally overflowing on his pale face.

Daegal perched on the cart next to the nurse who was sniffling noisily. He crossed his arms, tucked his head in his shoulders with a snort, and began to swing his legs.

\- "Let's let them have a moment for themselves", crooned the old woman. "Do you want a honey cake with almonds? I've got some in a basket."

Daegal's eyes lit up immediately. He quickly checked that no danger was creeping into the darkness around them, then slipped between the curtains, settled on the cushions and began to stuff himself with cakes without worrying about what was being said outside.

Freyja had finally let go of her fiancé and was lightly touching his cheekbones, his long dark hair, trying to find a bit of the old him in the angular features of this new man.

\- "I can't believe you're alive," she whispered with a happy smile that was shining with tears. "When Arthur will know, he'll..."

\- "The prince must know nothing!" Merlin said sharply. Then he softened: "Please, Princess... no one must know who I am."

\- "But _why_?" exclaimed Freyja. "Arthur mourned you for years – he still is! He's so miserable in this corrupt court with our father who hates him and..."

She stopped suddenly and her face lost all color.

\- "You came back to get revenge."

\- "No", said the young man. "I came back to place on the throne someone who deserves it, who will be able to watch over the people, to rebuild Camelot and bring back justice, honor and civil peace."

Freyja's eyes blazed.

\- "If Arthur knows you're by his side, he'll go to the very end, he won't be afraid of anything."

\- "If Arthur knows who I am, he will recklessly ask his father to reopen the investigation on what happened twelve years ago and the same dreadful fate that fell upon Leon will fall on him too – or he will not allow me to be in any danger, even mess up our plans if he considers them too risky for me", countered Merlin almost desperately. "It's better if he keeps thinking of me as a simple strategist, that he does not care about me, that he hardens himself until he's got confidence in his political decisions, as he's already sure of himself on the battlefield."

The young woman nodded, then took a step forward and hugged him again.

\- "I understand. But _you_ will suffer from his indifference, maybe he'll even be harsh with you... it's unfair! Have not you suffered enough?"

He gently pulled her away from him, smiled tenderly – much more tenderly than the nineteen years old impetuous captain had ever smiled, but with the same blue eyes to which Freyja could never refuse anything.

\- "It's something I have to do for Arthur, for my father, for Prince Leon and for the seventy thousands of our men who died that winter in the Northern Mountains. Don't try to stop me, Freyja. I've waited twelve years for that moment to come..."

She shuddered, because his voice was soft, sad and loving, but his eyes glowed with a steel, icy and immutable will.

\- "I can wait too", she assured proudly. "And when Arthur will be on the throne... then we'll be together... we'll go to the West... we'll be just Emrys and Freyja, like we were before..."

He hugged her.

\- "I dreamed so many times of the moment I would see you again", he mumbled. "I was supposed to protect you… to be always at your side…"

\- "You never left me," she whispered. "It's your memory that gave me courage in all my battles. But, please, don't ever again go so far away that I can't follow you there."

He did not answer, kept her in his arms for a moment, then sighed deeply and took a few steps back.

\- "Now we have to play each our role. I'm just a wizard and you're the princess. Don't forget: Arthur must not know who I am, you must not let him guess your feelings for me."

She nodded. Then, hesitating, she asked:

\- "Can I still come to see you?"

He smiled.

\- "As often as you wish."

She smiled too, despite the tears that were glistening on her cheeks in the candlelight. She bowed very formally, bringing her two hands in front of her in a wide flapping of her white silk sleeves. He did the same, very serious.

\- "Goodbye, Merlin."

\- "Goodbye, Princess."

The cart and the carriage followed each other down the slope, while the lanterns rattled at every jolt, casting yellow bursts of light on the dark road. The breath of the horses was condensing in small white clouds in the frosty night.

That evening, Gaius spared his litany of habitual reproaches to his patient when he heard where he had gone and whom he had met. Leaning over him, he patted Merlin's back with compassion as the young man muffled his violent coughs in a blood-stained handkerchief.

Except for the old, grumpy doctor and the invincible young guard, the household _Caltrop Street_ was made of Gwen, a cook who was young enough for jealous people to imagine that she had _other_ duties, and of a servant with military manners named Lancelot. Both knew the secret identity of the wizard and had volunteered to go with him to Camelot. Gwen was devoted to Merlin, who had once saved her father from a miscarriage of justice, and Lancelot was a former knight of the Royal Army, also a survivor of the Northern Mountains massacre.

Merlin treated them each with equal kindness, like true members of the family, but he demanded complete obedience from them. He was expecting from them not only absolute discretion, but also that they were ready at all times to run to the other end of the city, to convey his instructions to the letter, to disguise themselves and to play a role if needed. His plans always came first, whatever their concerns. Gaius was the only one to - sometimes – manage to force their master to rest, perhaps because he was probably the only one to know exactly what his illness was really about.

But even the doctor would never have broken the First Order, which was to always allow Prince Arthur in whenever he came to the house, whether through the main entrance or the secret passage.

A long, cold, damp corridor now connected the two residences. Thus, they could meet any time, away from prying eyes and ears.

You just had to ring the silver bell hanging under the vault, and the other one would open if the way was clear: one could not take the risk of Prince Morgan or the Crown Prince Alined, who came regularly to consult the Wizard of the East River, inadvertently finding themselves in the presence of the brother whom they did not yet consider as a rival.

When the tunnel was ready, Merlin made his way through the streets of the city, under the pretext of asking the fifth prince, entrusted with a delicate investigation, to be clement to one of Prince Morgan's sorcerers who had been accused of dark magic and embezzlement.

In fact, Merlin had no intention of encouraging Arthur to stoop down to such compromises. One by one the corrupt ministers were being removed from the Court and _that_ was exactly what the wizard wanted. Like this, in the future, the king would be able to rely on honest and hardworking officials, concerned about their country rather than their personal interests.

When he stepped out of his cart in front of the prince's house, the wind ruffled the gray fur of his collar as Merlin tightened his white coat around his shoulders, overwhelmed with emotion as he looked up at the great stone arch at the top of the stairs.

Joyful voices floated to him, rising from the past. Two boys were chatting animatedly on the steps and the old promise was still echoing in his ears.

 _"We're blood brothers, what is mine is yours. Leon has chosen this place for me, but you can consider it your own, until your father allows you to have your own house!"_

 _"Bring me back a pearl from Mercia, the biggest you can find: we'll put it in the pond and it'll be as if the moon was in there all year long."_

His clouded eyes could almost see the young silhouettes clasping their arms before jumping each on their horses. Emrys, so young and so carefree, was dressed in white at that time too, but he was glowing with health. Arthur's blond hair, tied in a ponytail, was dancing in the back of his red tunic and his smile was sparkling like his golden armor.

\- "This house has not changed at all," muttered the wizard, his heart painfully clenching.

Then he gathered his courage and climbed the steps to the prince who was waiting for him under the stone arch, his hands tied behind his back, his face stern and expressionless as usual.

Arthur had a brazier brought to his chambers while they were chatting and he ordered it to be placed near the sickly man who had not taken off his coat. The windows were opened to welcome the spring atmosphere and the house was filled with noisy animation, sounds of swords and laughter.

There were no soldiers in the kingdom who did not know who their allegiance went to: those who went out to fight would have all followed Arthur and Princess Freyja to the ends of the world and those who were in charge of protecting the castle would have obeyed without hesitation to any order given by Gwaine. Captains and commanders of the army liked to gather in the fifth prince's house to discuss the defenses of the territory and they regularly invited the royal guards to train with them.

If Prince Morgan and Prince Alined had only noticed the loyalty these thousands of men had for the less beloved son of the king, they could have found there a reason to make Arthur look suspicious and to remove him definitively from the race to the throne. But the two rivals were far too busy with their court intrigues to realize that their brother, if he wanted to, had the means to overthrow his father and seize the power by force.

\- "I would never do such a thing!" Arthur growled when Merlin pointed it out. "I gave my word to serve the king!"

\- "But others, whose thoughts are twisted by a perverse nature, may have the impression that this is what you are preparing," the wizard explained patiently. "The ministers we've gradually helped to rise are all people of integrity. Soon they'll notice your Highness is the only person to honor his commitments and to have at heart the good of Camelot. Rumors will spread and these people full of good intentions will seek to come closer to you, to show you they are ready to support you if you take a step towards the throne."

Arthur frowned and Merlin, amused in spite of himself, could not help seeing his friend at sixteen, puzzled by a political problem his preceptors had given him to solve.

\- "Do you really believe the king and my brothers might think I am setting up my own faction?"

\- "They will then attack these sincere but clumsy people and all the efforts we have made to place trusted workers in key government positions will be lost. Your Highness must continue to maintain good relations with these persons who are worthy of his friendship, but never recommend them to His Majesty himself, nor let them express their enthusiasm towards you."

\- "Otherwise the past might repeat itself," Arthur muttered darkly. "I don't know exactly what happened at the time, but I can't help thinking that if the ministers had not been constantly praising my brother and General Balinor in front of the king and had not always referred to their good ideas and their exploits, my father would have been more willing to seek the truth when they were accused..."

His gaze unconsciously turned to the wall of trophies that hid the entrance to the secret passage in his chambers and, for a second, a deep distress flickered on his always so imperturbable face.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably on his cushion and the prince came back to him, noticing his pallor.

\- "Are you all right, Sir Merlin?"

\- "It's nothing", replied the wizard in a hoarse voice. "I just need to stretch my legs."

He got up painfully, took a few steps in the room to rein in his feelings. _How much did it cost him not to betray his identity when he saw this kind of expression on his best friend's face..._

His eyes fell on the broken enchanted bow that was hanging at the place of honor on the wall and he went to it, reached out.

\- "Don't touch it!" the prince's imperious voice called behind him.

Merlin jumped and immediately withdrew his hand.

\- "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," said Arthur, getting up as well and coming to him, a furrowed line on his forehead showing his annoyance despite his efforts to be polite. "It was my best friend's bow. He's… gone, now, but he didn't like people touching his things."

\- "I understand," said the wizard softly, his gaze still on the broken bow that had been _his_ , twelve years ago, and was probably the only thing belonging to him brought back after the battle in the Northern Mountains.

Blood smeared the rag he had wrapped on his hand that fateful morning. His voice was hoarse from repeating the magic words, his arms exhausted by three days and three nights of fighting the enemy... he had lost the bow at the same time as his horse, when the assault on the left flank had seriously breached their defenses...

The clashing of the swords, the raging flames and the horses neighing in despair, the gentle touch of the snowflakes on his skin in that hell, the cries of war and the moans of the wounded, the evil ashes blown out by the dragon of Caerleon... all this went up like a sudden roar in his ears. He closed his eyes and swayed.

Arthur took a step forward, grabbed his arm and looked at him with a mixture of compassion and pity.

\- "Your health really isn't good... Perhaps you should find a new doctor... In any case, you've already stayed long enough. Thank you for the advice given today. I'll take it into account. You should go back now and rest. I'm sorry you can't go through the secret passage this time."'

Merlin nodded weakly.

\- "I apologize to Your Highness," he muttered. "If you would just call in my servant, there'll be no need to escort me to the door."

Arthur hailed a soldier who was on duty outside and asked him to go get Lancelot. The former knight had not gone far and he was there in a tick. He immediately understood the situation when he came in the room and he hastened to go to his captain. Merlin, who was fighting not to collapse in the presence of the prince, sank with relief on his strong arm.

\- "Your Highness will only have to ring the silver bell in the tunnel and I'll open right away, whatever the time," he repeated again.

The prince gazed thoughtfully at the sick man, then he nodded slowly, looked at the blue eyes burning with determination, and bowed.

\- "Until our next meeting, Sir Merlin."

 _"Until our next meeting, Emrys."_

In a fog of tears, the wizard let Lancelot guide him to the cart. Without a word, he sank into the cushions. The former knight tucked a blanket over his lap, ordered the driver to go, then sat down, respecting his master's silence.

He turned anxiously towards the young man when Merlin suddenly choked on a broken laugh.

\- "These hands were used to draw the bow, to train horses..." he stammered bitterly. "Now they can only stay hidden stirring in a cauldron..."

Lancelot felt his heart tighten.

\- "A day will come when Arthur will know the truth," he said fervently. "And he'll understand..."

But Merlin shook his head, because he did not want Arthur to see what had become of him. Even if his heart was desperate to shout "I'm here!" when he was in front of the prince, he would rather his friend remember the dashing captain to whom he had said goodbye on a winter morning, twelve years ago.

That night, Gaius spent quite a long time ranting in the kitchen when he left his patient's bedroom, from which he had not managed to chase off Daegal. The little guard was watching over his master, curled up on the carpet next to the bed.

Gwen and Lancelot listened without a word, and when they heard the silver bell ring for the first time in the tunnel, they went to greet the midnight visitor.

 _Whatever happens_ , had said the master.

Merlin was already up and smiling, all fatigue forgotten, when the prince came in.

\- "What can I do for your Highness?"

 _"What's mine is yours, you're always welcomed here."_

The fragrance of the plum trees blossom filled the night. In the pond in the middle of the garden, carps were swimming graciously under the surface of the water and the full moon looked like a shining pearl.

* * *

 _ **TBC**_

* * *

 ** _Next chapter : BLACK POWDER  
_**


	4. Black Powder

**BLACK POWDER  
**

* * *

Thus passed the months. Arthur and Merlin were working late at night, reviewing the officials, dismissing some names, examining each minister's state of service and reputations, choosing their battles, studying the secular laws and the boundaries of the magic council, carefully preparing the words the prince would say the next time he would find himself before the king.

By day, Merlin continued to welcome the rival princes. Alined, however, was seen less and less at the wizard's house. Morgan kept coming and, with the successes he encountered, was easily persuaded to support the fifth prince in this or that field.

The web was inexorably woven and, although Arthur still hated the idea that every word he uttered was calculated, that every action he undertook was in view of the repercussions it would entail, he had never had to betray his conscience and he was sometimes surprised how much he appreciated the moments spent in the company of the wizard.

Uther Pendragon was softening little by little and more and more often called before him the fifth prince to entrust him with tasks or simply to ask his opinion.

The land was peaceful and the people, slowly, was beginning to benefit from the prudent and wise conduct of the new ministers.

Summer came. In this season, it rained a lot and the country covered with vast forests suddenly seemed darker. The mountains were shrouded in fog and the smell of ripe peaches and fresh leaves filled the air. It was not as cold, but Merlin waited impatiently for the return of the crunchy snow that easily detached from his soles and the braziers that held the wet breath at a distance. As he watched the curtain of warm drops drumming on the garden and beading on the edge of the awning, he felt like if the rain was seeping to his bones, and fever often preyed on him on late afternoon. He dreamed then of the battlefield on which he had lost all his companions, he heard the voice of his father, distant, repeating: "Live, live for us all..." and he kept falling from the cliff...

One of those days, the silver bell rang deep in the house and Lancelot brought Arthur to the living room. The prince noticed at once that the wizard looked sicker than usual and he made a gesture to ask that he would not be woken up. He was going to quietly withdraw when Daegal came in, soaked and very happy to be so, and announced that Freyja was coming through the little door on the west wall.

Arthur frowned. He was not aware of his sister's frequent visits to Merlin and would not have approved them anyway. Instead of leaving, he then sat down on a cushion.

Daegal glanced at him indifferently as he wrung his wet clothes. A small puddle spread rapidly on the floor where he stood. Lancelot had gone to fetch the princess after having recommended to the young guard to dry himself and thrown him a towel.

Merlin sighed and Arthur turned to him, but the wizard had not awoken. He was still slouched against the back of his chair, shivering in his sleep. The prince examined the thin face of the wizard and, for the first time, realized that he was much younger than he seemed when he was talking and moving about. His illness made him look like an old man, but he was probably no more than thirty years old – just like Arthur.

Merlin's eyelashes fluttered and his discolored lips quivered, stammering one or two indistinct words. A drop of sweat ran down his temple, he winced, moaned and curled up on himself. His blanket slid to the ground. He was probably having a nightmare.

The prince absent-mindedly held out his hand to wake him up, but Daegal's arm stopped him. The boy's eyes were blazing with anger.

\- "I'm not going to hurt him," said Arthur softly, now familiar with the young guard. "See, he's in pain, it's better to wake him up."

\- "No", Daegal growled. "Sick, sleep."

\- "It's not a _good_ sleep," Arthur explained gently. "Look at his face, he's not resting peacefully. You know what a nightmare is, don't you, Daegal? It's when bad pictures scare us in our sleep."

The kid pouted.

\- "Always nightmares", he said fiercely. "Not sleep at night, sleep now."

The prince arched an eyebrow. _What horrendous actions had the wizard done in the past so that his sleep would be constantly disturbed?_ Doubt filled him again. Everything seemed so simple, so easy, since he was following Merlin's advice. _Was he wrong to trust him? Who knew exactly where this wily figure came from, what he had done before, who he had been? What was his real purpose in coming to Camelot?_

Lancelot let in the princess. Arthur rose to greet her, and his eyes, troubled by his dark thoughts, immediately recorded several alarming details.

Freyja looked radiant. The rain had left a myriad of shining drops in her chestnut hair and her brown eyes had lost the hardness that had been theirs for twelve years. As soon as she entered, handing Lancelot her wet coat, she looked for the wizard. Her white dress was embroidered with forget-me-nots and azure arabesques, beautiful silver teardrops hung from her delicate ears, and a slight touch of pink enhanced her cheeks.

She greeted her brother distractedly - _almost with a little bit of annoyance in finding him there_ \- then went to Merlin, knelt beside his chair and lifted her face to him.

Was it the scent of rain on the princess or the agitation in the room, though hushed, that finally woke him up? Anyway, the wizard opened his eyes and straightened up.

\- "Don't get up," said Freyja tenderly – _and Arthur, befuddled, knew for certain that she had intended to take the man's hand and had stopped herself at the last moment_. "You've got a fever again, Lancelot told me. I brought you peaches and my brother is here to visit you."

Merlin flinched and his eyes immediately looked for the prince. On discovering him stiff and frozen, standing in a corner of the room, he hastened to help the princess up and mumbled an apology for welcoming them in such a state.

Freyja finally seemed to realize that her brother was staring at her strangely, and she blushed for a second. Then she pouted.

\- "There's no offense," she said in a clear voice that sounded like a challenge. "Lancelot warned the prince and I that you were not well, we chose to enter anyway and disturb your rest."

Arthur, amazed, realized he had guessed right! _By the most unexpected chance, his sister, so strong, so sincere, so pure - who for twelve years had never forgotten her fiancé - was enamored with this sickly, shady and calculating person._

He was looking for ways to deal with the situation - _was he to confront Merlin? Take her sister apart first to check her feelings?_ \- when Gwen brought in peaches and refreshments. She slapped off Daegal's greedy hand, laid the tray in front of the princess, bowed to the prince, and then went away after wrapping her master and Freyja in a tender gaze that made Arthur shudder. _If the_ _wizard's servants were already well aware of what was going on with these two, rumors would soon reach the king. Their father's ire would be terrible and, although he had always been favorable to the Wizard of the East River living in Camelot, he would probably not hesitate to arrest or exile him. Then he would marry Freyja with the first noble dodderer he would find and she would be miserable all her life..._

\- "Your Highness? Are you alright?"

Arthur woke up from his daze. Everyone was looking at him with some puzzlement. He forced himself to calm down, took the peach someone was handing to him.

\- "You wanted to consult me on something?" Merlin asked.

His smile seemed uncomfortable and his eyes slid imperceptibly towards Freyja. The prince realized the wizard had guessed what was going on in his head and he felt slightly relieved. At least it would not be up to him to approach the question and Merlin, who was smart, would probably have no trouble understanding that this relationship was impossible...

This would leave only Freyja to be convinced and this, unfortunately, would undoubtedly prove the most difficult. The princess, indeed, had never been frivolous and if she had really decided to give her heart, it would be very difficult to make her give up the idea.

\- "I went to Nemeth last week," Arthur said. "I noticed there were more convoys coming from the valley than usual and I asked Geoffrey of Monmouth to conduct an investigation. It's not yet harvest time, it's strange. Do you have any information about this?"

Merlin had agents - Arthur hated to say "spies" - in the city and across the country. Many things came to his ears this way.

The wizard thought for a moment.

\- "No, I heard nothing of the like. I'll put someone on it", he began.

Then he paused, surprised, because Daegal, who had come back and finally managed to grab a peach, had just spit furiously the bit he had in his mouth.

\- "Oh-oh," said the princess, laughing. "Seems like the feast is not of Sir Daegal's taste! What a luxury, to dislike peaches coming straight from the kitchens of the Crown Prince!"

\- "Alined ordered _peaches_?" said Arthur, arching an eyebrow. "He doesn't like them. I've heard the last time he was presented some, he threw his plate at the head of the Intendant."

Merlin's face became thoughtful. He picked up the nibbled peach which the boy had thrown away with annoyance before fleeing to the garden, and sniffed it cautiously.

\- "Maybe it was not the peach itself that displeased Daegal," he said slowly. He called out to Lancelot, who was trying to get the young guard down from the roof and handed him the fruit. "See if there's any difference between this and the other peaches Her Highness the Princess graced us with. Find out what put off Daegal."

He then turned to the prince.

\- "Among the carts you noticed, were there bags of flour or grain with the fruits?

Arthur pondered for a while.

\- "Maybe, I don't remember. I can check it."

\- "Please do", Merlin said. "And if you could have the carts followed to their destination, it'd be even better." His eyes darkened. "If I'm right, these peaches have been traveling with saltpeter and sulfur. It may be that these deliveries are hiding something much more sinister than tax evasion."

\- "Are you… do you mean someone has been smuggling Black Powder into Camelot?" exclaimed Arthur, aghast.

The princess looked alarmed.

\- "Do you think Alined could be involved? Could it be that he's preparing something dangerous?"

Merlin shook his head slowly.

\- I don't daresay... but we must pay the closest attention to that. Whatever the reason behind the smuggling, if it's poorly stored somewhere in town, that Black Powder could set Camelot on fire."

Arthur shuddered. He got up quickly, hastily bowed.

\- "I'll go see what I can find out", he said.

And in an instant he was out. Freyja and Merlin then exchanged glances.

\- "I'm in for a sore discussion when this affair is over", sighed the princess.

The young man smiled sadly.

\- "Of course, if we _could_ tell him the truth, he'd be the first to approve of your choice. But we can't, and I'm afraid you'll need to space out your visits in the future."

Freyja nodded, resigned. She reached out to pick up a peach, then changed her mind and left the last one on the plate. She slipped to Merlin's chair, put the blanket back in place, took his hand and put her head on his lap.

\- "In the meantime, he's not here. Let me stay close to you. I'm so tired of being a princess... let me forget, let me be only Freyja, like when nothing separated us..."

He did not answer, only intertwined his fingers with those of the woman he loved and softly stroked her hair with his other hand as they watched the rain.

It was still falling, strumming indefinitely on the darkened garden and the green little pond. The drops under the awning looked like cold, shiny diamonds and, somewhere, a frog was croaking.

Daegal, on the roof, was dancing with a laugh, rivulets of rain streaming on his face.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

Ten days later, another peach platter was placed in the large room that served both as a bedroom and a lounge at Merlin's.

The rain had stopped and the sky was clear, the temperature mild and pleasant. A breeze was playing in the foliage of trees shading the house. The wizard was reading a book and Daegal was snoring, spread out on the wooden floor.

On the coffee table, there was an ongoing game of chess, the white pieces well ahead of the black ones.

Lancelot was sweeping the courtyard, whistling quietly.

Everything was peaceful.

The princess was probably going to show up soon. Arthur would not come until tonight, he was at the castle to attend Geoffrey of Monmouth's plea about the warehouse found at the end of the peaches trail.

Merlin had given the information to Morgan the day before, knowing that the third prince would revel in being there when his older brother would face their father: it was indeed the Crown Prince that owned the Black Powder concealed in the middle of the city and if there was no proof that he intended to use it against the king, still the simple fact he owned it and was hiding it from everyone's knowledge was enough to suppose ill intention behind the feat.

Uther Pendragon was going to be irate and he would punish his son accordingly. It would be one more occasion to prove to all, and especially to His Majesty, that the heir to the throne was not worthy of it.

Merlin was also expecting that the king would be annoyed to see Morgan rejoice at his brother discomfiture and that the favor of the sovereign over the third prince would also take a hit.

Thus, Arthur, who had personally investigated and protected Geoffrey of Monmouth from the assassins sent by Alined, never ever accusing his brothers, would rise steadily in the esteem of his father.

The wizard was extremely satisfied with the whole affair. He was about to celebrate their victory in advance by allowing Daegal to eat a sixth peach, when a rumble suddenly shook the city.

The earth trembled, a mushroom of smoke blossomed above Camelot, then there was a moment of terrible silence, before distant stifled cries resounded.

Daegal, awakened with a start, jumped to his feet in a fighting position, then realized his master was no longer near him and rushed to Merlin who was anxiously scrutinizing the clouded sky.

There was no need to ask Lancelot to go inquire about this. He had probably left as soon as he had heard the explosion. An hour passed, heavy and anxious, during which the wizard paced nervously under the anxious gazes of Gaius and Gwen. Then doors slammed, footsteps hurried through the house and the former knight barged in.

\- "What's going on ?" Merlin asked immediately.

\- "The Black Powder warehouse exploded!" replied Lancelot, out of breath. His sweaty face was stained with soot, his clothes covered with small gray ashes, fluffy like feathers. Daegal pulled away from him, frowning. "There are many wounded, many dead too, and the whole neighborhood is in a state of indescribable chaos!"

Merlin turned pale and staggered. He held himself to the wall, making an imperious sign to stop the doctor who was darting towards him.

\- "An accident?"

Lancelot shook his head slowly.

\- "The weather's too wet and the fire has taken in several places. If it was only a lost spark..."

A frightful certainty twisted the wizard's guts.

 _Only one person had an interest in producing maximum damage with this story._

 _Only one person could be so vile as to cause so much suffering in order to reach their goal._

 _And this person had been made aware of the existence of the warehouse by Merlin himself..._

The young man grabbed Lancelot's arm and stuck his nails into the knight's skin.

\- "Take me there."

Smoke was obscuring the sky and filled the streets with a thick, pungent fog where the tragedy had taken place. Dozens of houses had been ravaged by the fire and chains of exhausted men were working on a line to pass on buckets of water and quench the burning rubble. Ashes fluttered everywhere, whitening the hair of the victims slumped on the side of the road, moaning and sobbing. Wheelbarrows were carrying off the dead shrouded in white sheets, mothers were screaming the names of their children, babes were wailing, old men were tottering aimlessly in silence, big tears rolling on their wrinkled faces blackened by the soot. It was a nightmare, gray with fatigue and despair, in which the red coats of the soldiers stood out clearly as they pitched tents, distributed blankets and medicine, counted families and triaged the wounded.

Daegal sneezed and rubbed his nose, then hurried back to Merlin, who was staring at the damage, wandering in the congested street, continually escaping Lancelot who was worried the sorcerer would stumble over broken beams or fall into a ditch.

A knight saw them and came to ask them to leave the place, to let the officials work. Merlin answered curtly, pointed to Gaius who was busy among the victims and demanded to know how many deaths the explosion had caused.

The man was telling them that he could not disclose such information when Princess Freyja showed up at the head of a convoy of food and clothing. At the same moment, Arthur appeared at the corner of the street, dusting his clothes and exchanging a few words with knights who, obviously, had been with him as close as possible to the furnace.

Freyja dismounted and hurried to Merlin. She put her hand lightly on the arm, but did not have time to talk to him because her brother had spotted them and was now walking towards them in great strides.

Daegal, alarmed, and jumped to stand in front of his master. He was pushed aside without a word and did not dare protest since the sorcerer had once grounded him for attacking the prince who was _never_ to be stopped.

\- "Sir Merlin," said Arthur with an icy voice. "Always found where the crows gather. It was to be expected, I guess."

Freyja frowned.

\- "What does that mean?" she asked angrily.

\- "That the warehouse would have been closed today without any trouble, if _no one_ had had the good idea to suggest an explosion to _someone_ ", hissed the prince, his eyes hard.

In other circumstances, the wizard would have been proud to see that Arthur had been able to make the link between this sudden accident and the profit a rival could draw from it, but his heart could only clench painfully at the disappointment and the contempt disputing in Arthur's glare.

\- "Does your Highness really think all this is _my_ idea?" he asked in a calm tone despite the knot in his throat.

 _It's not me! If you knew who I was, you'd never suspect me of such infamy. How can you believe I would deliberately bring death and suffering to so many innocent people, even for something as important as the throne?_

Trembling with indignation, Freyja took a step forward with the obvious intent to slap her brother. She had probably followed the same train of thoughts and could not stand this injustice any longer. But if she finished her gesture, she was going to betray their secret and _that_ was unthinkable.

Merlin took advantage of his body betraying him once again to lean heavily on the princess and pinch her arm. In the confusion, nobody noticed it and when the wizard straightened up, his forehead glistening with sweat, Freyja was still irate, but she had understood the message.

\- "I thought you were better judge of the human character than that, Arthur", she scolded. "Do you have any brains outside the battlefield? How can you accuse Sir Merlin without the slightest proof? Has he ever let you think he'd go to such dreadful lengths to obtain something?"

Doubt flickered on the bitter face of the prince.

\- "I suppose I spoke too hastily", he conceded. Then his eyes blazed. "Let it be a warning, I will not tolerate such a thing in the future and let innocent people be treated as simple pawns on a chessboard. Is that clear?"

Daegal gritted his teeth, but Merlin quieted him with a gesture and bowed under Lancelot's dismayed gaze.

\- "Very clear, Your Highness."

Freyja was fuming and she did not let go of her brother until he sighed wearily and also clasped his hands in front of him.

\- "For this time, please forgive my thoughtless words, kind sir."

Merlin did not answer. Instead, he looked wearily at the many victims, the smoky street, the destroyed stalls, the houses in ashes, the livestock and the children wading in the black mud and he asked if there had been riots.

\- "My men have quickly contained them", said the prince, softening a little. "But the people's resentment will not be easy to appease. The King will have no choice but to severely punish the one responsible for this tragedy."

\- "His Majesty will not find the real culprit and will only be able to go after the owner of the warehouse", Merlin said in a low voice. "This time, Prince Alined will definitely be out of the picture, but I'd like to know _who_ had the idea of blowing up the warehouse... in this wet weather, they _had_ to resort to magic... However, I can't believe the third prince would imagine such an act of cruelty on his own... There must be someone else, someone hiding behind his shoulder. And that person is not to be taken lightly."

* * *

 ** _TBC..._**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter : LANTERNS_**


	5. Lanterns

**LANTERNS**

* * *

Merlin had been right, again. The secret services themselves could not - or _would_ not - discover any other reason for the explosion of the warehouse than that of an unfortunate accident, and it was therefore up to the king to make his wrath fall on his heir to appease the numerous petitions from the people and the Nobles who took advantage of this moment of disgrace to get rid of a prince whom they feared and hated.

Morgan was jubilant and he barely held back a triumphant smile when the crown was taken from his brother and Uther Pendragon sentenced Alined to exile, ordering him to never reappear before his face.

Although this was consistent with Merlin's plans, the wizard was careful not to rejoice. Indeed, he was suspicious of the other brilliant and terrible ideas Morgan's mysterious adviser was going to suggest to him in the future, especially now that something was changing in the power in place.

The courtiers had not noticed anything yet, and the frivolous dance of their flattery had simply shifted from the crown prince to the third prince, but the replacements of the ministers, who were concentrating on serious matters, did not have their eyes in their pockets. Actually, it would have been almost necessary to prevent them from being so zealous. Every day, they brought new reports on how Arthur was managing the situation in the heart of the city: the wounded were being cared for, families were rehoused, food and medicine were being distributed in abundance, knights were patrolling the streets to ensure the safety of the people, wizards were busy preventing a similar disaster from occurring again and the people, far from being close to rebelling, was singing praises of the king and his solicitude.

Gradually, over the months, it became obvious that you had to reckon with the fifth prince, to whom so far had been hitherto entrusted only ungrateful tasks or expeditions far from Camelot because his abrupt manners, his stubbornness and his inability to turn a blind eye to the slightest discrepancy in the rules were a sore to all those inclined to compromise.

Uther Pendragon had finally remembered that he had another son and that so-said son had always faithfully served his country and his father. Moreover, Arthur did not allow himself to be dragged into vain quarrels and did not cause royal migraines to the sovereign. The latter, therefore, felt more and more inclined to put him in the spotlight, and he was surprised to discover that the prince's righteousness, his tenacity and his analytical mind, although at times annoying, made him more effective than his brothers.

But if Morgan, to his joy of getting rid of Alined, did not realize the shadow his younger brother was slowly casting on him, others were determined to choke the chick in the egg before it would gain power and soared up to an eagle.

The perfect opportunity to bring Arthur down finally came with the return of winter and no one, on _Caltrop Street_ , suspected how much this trial was going to test the friendship slowly growing between the prince and the wizard.

The snow had fallen in abundance during the night and Daegal, delighted, giggled with joy as he rolled over the white and soft carpet that covered the garden. He had gathered a big pile on a stone table and was jumping excitedly under Merlin's amused gaze.

\- "You're not covered enough, you should go back inside," Gwen said, stopping next to the wizard with a basket of tangerines.

He just smiled and caught the snowball Daegal had gently thrown at him. The young guard's face lit up and he hurried to prepare a new projectile, uttering a small joyful shriek when the first one came back crashing down softly on his shoulder.

He could have avoided it effortlessly, but he liked the game too much and it was obvious that Merlin was enjoying the recreation too.

Gwen shook her head tenderly, pushed back her curly brown hair under her cap and went back to the kitchen to keep preparing pastries for the Lantern Festival.

\- "It's cold, you should not be outside," Lancelot said as he stepped out onto the terrace and noticed that Merlin was rubbing his hands together, blowing on them to try to warm them up.

His former captain ignored him completely. Daegal was giving his artwork eyes with two black berries, modeling round ears and something that look like a muzzle in the white snow. Then he smashed the rest of the berries, put half in his mouth and smeared what was left on the creature's face, snorting indignantly.

The wizard burst out laughing.

\- "I see you haven't forgiven him for eating all the hazelnuts cakes the other day!" he chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "I'm sure Gwen will make some more for the New Year's celebrations. You know I can't eat them: they'll be all for you."

The knight walked away with a smile, shrugging.

 _It was not every day that their master was so relaxed, seemed so happy. They could allow him some slack, for once..._

\- "Harrumph."

Lancelot gasped as he came face to face with the doctor who was arching his eyebrow threateningly, his glasses raised high on his wrinkled forehead. Behind the knight, Merlin sighed, looking resigned, and went back inside.

\- "He only listens to you," said the knight admiratively.

\- "He better!" Gaius muttered, narrowing his eyes, letting out a wild boar grunt before going back into his office.

Daegal pouted and left his artwork to go roam the neighboring gardens, looking for places where the blank coat would allow him to leave fresh prints.

When the princess and Gwaine came some time later on, they paused as they passed to perplexly gaze at the shapeless heap of snow with the smashed berries on the stone table, trying to understand what that might be.

\- "It's a bear," chuckled Merlin.

He was sitting by a brazier, wrapped in his furs, and was drinking gracefully yet another of those disgusting fortifying potions Gaius concocted for him when he was angry.

\- "A bear?" repeated Gwaine, raising a puzzled eyebrow.

\- "A... oh, I see!" Freyja giggled, and she hid her mouth behind her large silk sleeve to laugh at her ease.

\- "Every regular visitor to this house gets to have a nickname," the wizard told the general. "Daegal knows who we're talking about when we mention a name in front of him, but he can only point out people to me by using simple words. For example, you're _Big Fellow_ , because you were able to defeat Daegal the first time you two met. Lady Freyja is the _Princess_ , of course. Gaius is _Doctor_ , Gwen is _Auntie_ , Lancelot is just _Celot_."

He grinned.

\- "I like to think it's actually _zealot_ , but mispronounced. Lancelot is very upset about it."

\- "And the Bear is ...?"

Merlin did not answer, but his blue eyes, suddenly very young, sparkled impishly. But before his friend could insist, however, the silver bell rang down in the secret passage.

\- "Will you go see the lanterns tonight, Sir Merlin?" asked the princess when her brother had been introduced, greeted and settled on a cushion with them around the brazier.

Gwen had brought a tray of New Year desserts – honey pastries, custard tarts, gingerbread, iumbolls, some hazelnuts cakes in a separate dish – and a bowl of fresh fruits. Daegal, miraculously reappeared, sat next to his master and happily gobbled down the tangerine sections Merlin held out to him one by one.

\- "We will certainly go," said the wizard, "unless His Highness came to bring to my attention a problem which requires an urgent answer."

Arthur shook his head and swallowed so quickly the rest of his hazelnut cake that he almost choked on it.

\- "I was just going to tell you that His Majesty is sending me to handle a case of confiscation of properties in the Lowlands and that I will probably be away for four days", he spluttered when he finally managed to catch his breath, his eyes red and moist under his blond bangs.

He hesitated, then added gruffly:

\- "And I also wanted to invite you to the Festival. The view from the Watchtower is incomparable. The moment when the lanterns fly away... one must at least once in their life stand on the wall of the city at midnight to see that."

Freyja and Gwaine carefully avoided looking at each other, overwhelmed with emotion. For years, Arthur had not returned to this place marked by memories... It was clearly a sign of friendship on his part to suggest taking Merlin there.

A sweet smile flittered on the wizard's face.

\- "Your Highness can not risk being seen in my company, especially in the castle," he reminded. "But we can certainly launch a lantern from my garden, to honor the tradition without any danger of indiscretion."

\- "Oh," said Arthur, frowning. "That's right, I did not think about that."

\- "Daegal, I'm sure, would enjoy seeing the show from the city walls," Freyja interjected. "You should take him there."

The Prince's face cringed imperceptibly.

\- "You'd come with us, then, of course?" he said in a tone which lightness was clearly forced.

\- "Oh, I don't know," said the princess carelessly. "The crowds are often dense on the night of the Festival, Sir Merlin cannot venture unprotected into the streets. I have already admired the lanterns from the Watchtower, maybe I could just keep him company."

\- "Maybe we could see off the lantern together from my garden, and go our separate ways afterwards?" Merlin suggested hastily, anxious not to abuse Arthur's patience. "Then we'd have shared this moment, but no one would be deprived of his amusement... Gaius, after all, has not yet agreed of me going out tonight."

Gwaine took the excuse of pouring himself a new cup of tea to lower his head and hide the contradictory feelings that were fighting on his face.

He could see that Arthur, naturally protective, was disturbed to see his sister fall in love with a stranger and torn between his budding friendship with Merlin and his doubts about the mysterious wizard's motives.

Gwaine stifled a sigh: he himself was both amused by Freyja's teasing of her brother and saddened by the efforts the former Emrys was making so to not irritate the one who had once been the first to cheer for their love story.

 _When everything would be over, maybe..._

In the meantime, it was necessary to keep playing the game, in spite of the cruel heartbreaking it sometimes caused.

When Gaius was consulted on the issue, he categorically refused to allow the wizard to go to the Festival, invoking the particularly intense cold, the crowd and the strain that so much excitement would cause and he had to be cajoled, begged, promised that his patient would take all the bitterest drugs he would order and go to bed early and take a nap in the morning _and_ in the afternoon in the next few days. The old doctor ended up authorizing at least the celebrations in the garden. Then he left the room, mumbling something that no one else, in the general excitement, heard, but which made a sad smile drift over Merlin's lips.

Under the night vault, the glittering city was buzzing with animation. Cheerful exclamations, music, voices and delicious smells were rising in the frozen air beyond the walls of the garden. The stars were twinkling wonderfully in this clear weather, far above them and bluish fringes of frost were pearling on the bare branches of the dark plum trees.

Lancelot had wrapped Merlin in a warm fur coat and Gwen had given them a huge basket of hot crispy sugar-laden cakes. Freyja came with her arms full of paper lanterns and Daegal, his eyes bulging, ran from one to the other to show them to his master, not knowing which one to choose.

The princess eventually unfolded a fish-shaped one and she carefully placed the candle inside before lifting it and showing it to the wizard.

\- "We should hang this one under the roof," she said.

Daegal immediately volunteered, but as everyone began to instruct him, they were still busy when Arthur stepped out of the secret passage. The prince paused to look at them and emotion suddenly overwhelmed him as he remembered another scene so similar, very old and yet still very fresh in his memory.

They were fifteen years old and Emrys, perched on his best friend's shoulders, was maneuvering the pole to hang a fish-shaped lantern under the laughing supervision of the princess...

 _This carelessness and happiness were far away, now..._

Shaking his head to regain control of his thoughts, Arthur walked down the steps to join the group, not realizing that Merlin was looking at him with misty eyes.

Crystallized snow was crunching under their soles and their breaths were condensing as their conversations mingled. They hung other lanterns all around the inner courtyard: large water lilies, dragons, horses, pumpkins… and spent a moment to write in a few brushstrokes, on those that would fly away, their wishes for the New Year.

Gwaine was worried at first, but the feeble hands of the wizard were trembling a bit, and no one could have recognized Emrys' energetic writing. Freyja must have noticed it too, for she moved away for a moment, blew her nose pretending she was cold, and came back with slightly red eyes.

Finally came the moment to send off the lanterns. Gaius, hearing his patient cough, urged him to go back inside, but he had to abdicate in front of Daegal's puppy eyes.

Freyja lit the candle and made sure it was secured in place. The light reflected on her beautiful face as she carefully examined the paper walls to make sure there was no tear. She handed the lantern to Merlin, and for a second their eyes smiled as their hands brushed.

Arthur, gazing at them, felt his heart squeeze painfully. Years ago, Emrys and his sister had stood facing each other just like this, magic fuzzing softly around them... and yet the tenderness on the princess's face was so deep, so tangible... _had she really forgotten about her fiancé? Who was he to forbid her to love again? Of course, Merlin was not of their status and the king would never allow this marriage, but..._

Arthur, torn by contradictory feelings in this season heavy with memories, ran a hand over his face. When he lifted his eyes, he realized that his sister and the wizard were looking at him.

\- "If your Highness would join us, I'd be very honored," said Merlin.

The prince took a deep breath, then stepped forward and put his hand with the others that were supporting the fragile paper lantern. Together, they pushed it upward and off it went, light and graceful, flying to the procession of lights that were rising above the city.

They sat under the porch to look at them. Daegal curled up at his master's feet, nestled his head on the young man's lap, and fell asleep right away. Gwaine and Lancelot chatted for a moment in a low voice, then the former knight retired, leaving recommendations to the general: Merlin was not to linger too long outside. Gwen and Gaius had gone to bed, and there was nothing left but a tangerine in the bowl on the stone table.

Little by little, the animation in the city diminished, went silent. In the deserted streets, littered with half-consumed red and yellow papers, the scarlet bulbs in which the candles lights were quivering continued alone to sway gently under the roofs.

The night was so big, so dark, so cold – the lanterns looked like a golden ribbon flying away like a dancing dragon.

Under the fur coat, Freyja had taken Merlin's hand. The prince and the wizard were silent, their two dark profiles carved into the blue glow of the garden.

Like they had done so many years ago, they waited together for the first morning of the New Year.

Carried by the wind, the lanterns disappeared into the East in the paling sky. Pink clouds stretched over the horizon and the stars dimmed off. A flight of birds passed over the house and, in the distance, came the usual hoarse call: "it is ... seven o'clock... and all... is well..."

When Lancelot came out of his room, he stumbled over Gwaine who was snoring, his chin resting on his chest, his arms crossed, his long legs stretched out on the terrace. The general awoke with a start, mumbled a few confused words as he took in where he was, then yawned big.

Sitting cross-legged on the stone table, Daegal who was peeling the last tangerine and tossing the sections up in the air before swallowing them, glanced at him distractedly and then looked back again at the wooden steps in front of him, where a curious sight could be seen.

Slumped against a pillar, His Highness Prince Arthur was sleeping soundly, his mouth half open. Against his shoulder was leaning Merlin's pale head. His sleep was troubled from time to time by a long shudder. Princess Freyja was snuggled against the wizard and was breathing softly, her cheeks rosy like a young girl dreaming.

Gwaine, who had stood up, patted Lancelot's shoulder with a fond snort. This scene reminded him of sweet memories: _how often, on the first morning of the year, had he, with Prince Leon and Lord Balinor, found in the gardens, these three, deeply asleep, piled up on top of each other? Some things, fortunately, had not changed..._

But Lancelot, who cared a lot more for the present than for the past, rushed to the wizard, took his hands and, gripped by anguish, realized that they were completely frozen. Sensing the movement, the prince awoke, straightened up and looked around, a bit astonished – _it had been thirteen years since his sleep had not been so peaceful_ – and realized where he was.

\- "Oh", he said, embarrassed. Then, frowning, "Oh, how is he?"

Merlin, rubbed energetically by the former knight, flickered his eyes open.

\- "How could you stay out all night?" cried Lancelot, clearly very upset. "Do you want our death? Oh, if you get sick again, Gaius will flay us alive!"

Daegal hurried to them. Gwaine had also drawn closer, worry and guilt painted on his face. Freyja, awake too, was anxiously scrutinizing the wizard's features.

\- "I'm fine", said Merlin lightly, but without trying to get up. "Your Highness, don't you have to make preparations for your departure early this morning? Princess, people must certainly worry about you at the Castle, you should head back."

Arthur, who had stumbled at the servant's familiarity with his master, came out of his thoughts, pulled himself out of the fur coat that had half fallen on him, clumsily put it back on the shoulders of the young man next to him and stood up, brushing his crumpled clothes.

\- "I _do_ have a lot to do," he said, clearing his throat. "Sir Merlin, I hope this night out will not affect your health. Freyja, I will go the castle with you, give my greetings to Father before I hit the road and explain to Mother that you have celebrated the New Year with me."

The princess shook her head, her eyes never leaving the sick young man.

\- "I'll come back later."

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but did not have time to say a word.

\- "Princess," Merlin said softly.

She bit her lip, got up stiffly.

\- "All right, I'm leaving," she snapped. "But don't worry about me, Arthur, the city is safe for me – I'm a knight, after all. I'll go home on my own."

The prince and the wizard shared a look, as if the same thought had crossed them at that moment. Freyja noticed it and this time she let go of a small sigh that was both annoyed and amused.

\- "The Queen probably did not even noticed I was gone, and if I do not surround myself with maids, it's because Alice isn't one to spread gossip about me," she added. "Lancelot, hurry to get Sir Merlin back inside before Gaius has both your heads chopped off. Come on, Arthur, we've stayed enough."

And grabbing her brother by the arm, she dragged him to the secret passage. As soon as they were gone, Merlin bent in half, finally giving in to the cough burning in his chest. Dismayed, Lancelot sent Daegal to fetch the doctor immediately while the general picked up the wizard and carried him inside.

Long hours passed before Gaius, wiping his glasses wearily, gathered everyone outside the room.

\- "The next few days will be critical", he announced darkly. "The fool! How does he intend to save the country while taking so little care of his health? May this serve as a lesson to us all. We cannot let him convince us, because he will burn the candle at both ends, whether because of friendship or duty. All visitors are to be turned away for a week. Is this understood? Rest, _proper_ rest, that's what he needs."

Gwen blew her nose loudly and nodded vigorously. Lancelot and Gwaine stood at attention. Daegal, instead of answering, slipped away to take his post at his master's bedside, his elbows sinking into the thick bear skin that covered the bed, his chin in his hands.

In his sleep, Merlin was dreaming. The fever, for once, was sparing him nightmares. But while he was lost in the happy days of his childhood, another drama was brewing in the shadows.

Gwaine had left Camelot to escort the King and the Queen to the Winter Castle where they used to go for short holidays after the end of the year festivities. In their absence, the affairs of the state slowed down. Morgan received the courtiers, and the ministers tried to take their troubles patiently and to do their work without the need for official seals. They had no desire to see the third prince put his nose in their affairs.

Arthur's stay in the Lowlands was getting longer: the Nobles were giving him a hard time and he literally could not step back and let go of any piece of land without endangering his authority and that of the King.

While everything seemed peaceful, two things happened simultaneously, with no apparent connection to each other.

A report reached Baron Agravaine's office: a village of merchants belonging to the _Alliance of the East River_ had rebelled against some tax collectors. Among the arrested men, there was one who was wearing a silver bracelet with an engraving: two flames side by side, the symbol of the _Scarlet Wings_ , the battalion of the royal army formerly led by Captain Emrys of Ealdor.

At the same time, Morgause tried to dismiss a maid she did not like. The young girl, to save her job, told her a secret: Princess Freyja regularly went out of the Castle without escort. She had been seen several times with a commoner and it could well be that these two had an inappropriate relationship.

These two things which, in the absence of the king, should have been kept secret because one was about an old case of treason and the other a scandal involving the royal family, strangely reached the public's ears and rumors swelled up in the city immediately.

Morgause lamented loudly to her brother Morgan, until the whole Court, forgetting the great services rendered by the princess-general to her country, saw in her nothing more than a harlot.

Meanwhile, the announcement of the capture of a former member of the _Scarlet Wings_ had had the effect of a kick in an anthill in the household on _Caltrop Street_. Men from the _Alliance of the East River_ had made their way to town, and when they had realized they would not be able to see Merlin, they had begun to mount plans to free the prisoner. Lancelot and Gwen were having a really hard time trying keeping these hot heads in the house to prevent them from wreaking havoc in the city (and getting captured) until Merlin regained consciousness.

In this chaos, when Freyja's nurse, Alice, came to ask if she could meet the wizard, she could not see either the knight or the cook. As she insisted, she was even stopped on the threshold by a stranger who told her there were more important matters to be taken care of. Distraught, the old servant then hurried back to the Castle to try to spare more mistreatment to her mistress whom Morgause had locked in her apartments and was tormenting daily.

A few days later, the horns announced the return of the King and his suite.

Morgause and Morgan rushed to greet their parents and immediately began to complain about their sister. The Queen fainted and His Majesty, very annoyed, was faced with a dilemma: if he asked for an investigation and found the commoner in question, he would have no choice but to exile the Princess and take away her titles, but if he did nothing, the reputation of his daughter would still be lost after such a scandal.

In the meantime, Baron Agravaine appeared before His Majesty and told him he had captured one of the members of the army who had rebelled thirteen years earlier.

Uther Pendragon, already in a very bad mood, was about to order the immediate execution of the traitor in public place, in the most cruel manner possible, when a herald came in and said that the fifth prince, back from the Lowlands, was asking for an audience.

Baron Agravaine drew aside obsequiously and waited for the young man's entrance, concealing a cunning smile.

* * *

 _ **TBC**_

* * *

 _ **Next chapter: SILVER BELL**_


	6. Silver Bell

**SILVER BELL**

* * *

Arthur, mud-drenched and frozen to the bone, had barely dismounted, when Alice had hurried to tell him of her mistress's misfortunes. His first reaction had been to ask if Merlin's advice had been sought for this situation and he had heard with astonishment that the wizard had not deigned to receive the nurse and had answered that he had "more important things" going on. Exhausted by several hours of travel in the snow, his nerves already frayed by all the problems the Nobles had brought him during his mission, the prince had felt his blood pressure increase rapidly.

Clenching his fists, he had immediately headed for the throne room, without even taking the time to change, with the firm intention of defending his sister – and then going to the wizard's for a full account: _how Merlin, who was certainly the commoner in question, had dared ignore such a problem and not take responsibility for the feelings he had encouraged?_

Freyja, of course, had her share of fault in this situation: she had been imprudent in too often frequenting _Caltrop Street_ where a person of her status had no business, but Arthur, eaten away by his anxiety, was also angry with himself: he should have intervened, separated these two immediately, not allowed their doomed friendship. _Now, Freyja's reputation was probably lost and what would the king do to Merlin if he found out that he was the one his daughter had fallen in love with?_

As he climbed the great stone staircase that led to the heart of the Castle, crossed the imposing doors and stepped on the crimson carpet between the high golden columns, Arthur, heavy-hearted, his body stiffened with fatigue, did not notice that he was followed by his brother Morgan, nor did he see the frantic head signs Gwaine was giving him from behind the throne.

And so the trap closed on the prince.

Uther Pendragon was rather well disposed in hearing someone defend his favorite daughter, but everything was ruined when Morgan, with a sweet tone, expressed the concern that the capture of the traitor was going to add to their father's worries. Baron Agravaine, jumping in, affirmed that it was a rather auspicious thing that they had gotten hold of one of those infamous rebels from the _Scarlet Wings_ and Arthur, suddenly dizzy, staggered.

Running a hand over his sweaty forehead, his mouth dry, he asked what _that_ was about and Morgan, kindly, informed him of the situation.

A dreadful thought swirled in the prince's blank mind: _Emrys! What if it was his best friend, miraculously reappeared? So he would have survived all those years? All this to fall into the cruel claws of the Secret Services! No, he had to save him!_

Not thinking straight anymore, he knelt down and began a passionate speech to demand the clemency of the king since it was the beginning of the year... and what was to happen happened, exactly as Baron Agravaine had foreseen. His Majesty, who could not bear to hear about this case, tried to silence his son, but the prince insisted, arguing that perhaps at the time the investigation had not been conducted properly, that the prisoner had to be interrogated and that they had to make sure no injustice had been committed.

Beyond himself, Uther Pendragon threw off all the things on his desk and, erupting in anger, accused Arthur of questioning his royal authority, of being a narrow-minded, rebellious, unworthy son and finally drove him out of His presence.

Prince Morgan and Baron Agravaine bowed and withdrew too, and Gwaine was the only one to see the sarcastic smile they shared as they watched Arthur leave the place, his blond hair dripping with black and viscous liquid from his bruised brow where the king's inkstand had struck him.

Gwaine wanted to run after the fifth prince and go with him to Merlin who could certainly unravel the whole situation, but his service kept him in the castle for several hours and, unfortunately, when he finally was free, the damage was done.

Arthur's first reflex was to rush home, to go inside the secret passage and to ring the silver bell. As no one came, he paced back and forth for what seemed an interminable time, then pulled again on the thread nervously, imagining all sorts of absurd reasons behind the lack of response Merlin, pondering with bitterness upon the old nurse's words and feeling cold shivers at the thought that his best friend might be lying a few miles away from him, chained deep into the Secret Services' prison.

 _No, he would save him! And he would demand from Merlin to be accountable for his words: what was more important than Freyja, when the princess had compromised herself in offering her friendship to someone who clearly did not deserve it?_

Arthur's teeth were clenched so much that a taste of enamel filled his mouth, and when the door of the vault finally opened, his nerves were tense to break, his anger to a point where he could not see clearly anymore.

\- "Where have you been?" he roared, not noticing the wizard's pallor, nor how the man was leaning against the wall as if he barely had enough strength to stand up. "What sorts of occupations keep you, you who have nothing to do with your time? And don't tell me that Morgan was with you, I saw him at the castle!"

A flash of anger passed through the wizard's eyes. He straightened up and answered in a cold tone:

\- "I will not lower myself to lie to Your Highness. If I allowed myself to make you wait, it was because I had my reasons, which were quite sufficient for me not to pretend that a visitor was importuning me."

Anguish blinded Arthur, otherwise he would have realized that he had hurt his interlocutor and apologized. But he could only think of one thing:

\- "A former member of _Scarlet Wings_ has been captured," he said hurriedly. "We must save him!"

\- "Your Highness is not telling me anything new," said Merlin coldly. "This news have been shaking the city for several days already."

\- "And you haven't done anything yet?" Arthur shouted. For a moment, his distress overwhelmed his anger and he stammered, fragile like a child: "It may be Emrys, it could be my best friend..."

Merlin's heart squeezed painfully.

\- "May Your Highness be at ease," he said gently. "We were able to verify the identity of the prisoner. It is not the son of the Earl of Ealdor, but his right hand, Knight Perceval."

A hiccup shook the prince, at once relieved and disappointed, as he absorbed the information, then he raised his head, and began to pace feverishly in the tunnel. Whenever he passed by the candle he had lit, the flame was bending, quivering, ready to go out.

\- "No matter who it is, we must save him," he said. "It is out of the question that we leave him in the hands of the Secret Services! They have already claimed his death sentence and who knows what they will do to him, as long as he is in prison at their mercy. What is your plan? When are we going to act?"

Merlin shook his head sadly.

\- "There's nothing we can do."

The thick eyebrows of the prince frowned dangerously.

\- "What do you mean?"

\- "That your enemies are expecting you to rush to the rescue. From the moment your Highness makes the slightest attempt to save Perceval, you will be condemned in the eyes of His Majesty. You will be accused of high treason and of rebellion, and you will suffer the same fate as Prince Leon."

Arthur clenched his fists.

\- "What exactly do you suggest?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.

Merlin's blue eyes stared at him, filled with compassion, but resolute.

\- "We still have a long way to go before you are crowned heir. You are only beginning to gain favor with the king and your enemies know your weakness. I understand that you wanted to save your friend, but that would be signing your fall, maybe even your death!"

He drew in a deep breath.

\- "We must abandon him to his fate," he said firmly, even though he felt as though he was plunging a blade into his own heart as he spoke those words. "The knight's life is not worth sacrificing everything we've built so far."

For a few moments, his face drained of all color, the prince stared at the wizard without saying a word. Then he spoke in a slow, icy voice:

\- "I thought you were different. Now I see, I was wrong. You're just like the others, only preoccupied with your little intrigues – cold and capable of giving up without any regret all those who could deviate you from your goal."

\- "Your Highness does not understand," Merlin protested. "The future of the country..."

\- "Oh, I understand only too well," Arthur said, quivering with rage. " _The future of the country_. That's how you sort between important things and things that are not, which is why the reputation of a princess or her feelings do not matter to you!"

He took a step towards the door on his side of the tunnel, his hand clutching the pommel of his sword.

\- "Your Highness can not act recklessly!" tried again Merlin, leaving aside for the moment the allusion to Freyja that he did not understand. "If you expose yourself, it-"

\- "It is _you_ who do not understand!" the prince shouted in despair. "Thirteen years ago, I could not do anything for them! When I came back from Mercia, it was over, they were all dead and I hadn't known anything about it... I'm not going to give up now that I _can_ do something!"

He was shaking and had to make an effort to control his voice.

\- "From now on it will not be necessary for us to meet again, Sir Merlin."

\- "What do you mean?" gasped the wizard.

\- "Can you not understand my words? Aren't the wisest man in the country?" Arthur retorted bitterly. "You can read in the hearts of people, they say, read in mine, then: I do not want to have to anything to do with someone as despicable as you!"

He climbed the steps that led out of the tunnel on his side and, with a quick gesture, pulled out his sword and cut the thread. The silver bell fell down and rolled on the ground.

\- "I do not need to become a king, if I cannot help those who matter to me," he said again, without turning his back. "Goodbye, Sir Merlin."

And the door fell behind him with a thud, taking with a breath the flame of the candle.

In the damp, icy darkness, Merlin dropped to his knees. For a few seconds he remained motionless, his face aghast, his arms limp, then a single sob shook him. He stood up, his face pale, stumbled up the stairs, using the walls as support and climbed out of the tunnel behind the library.

\- "What happened?" cried Lancelot, distraught, when he saw the dusty clothes of his master. "Did you fall? See, you shouldn't have gotten up, Gaius had said you were still too weak!"

He wanted to guide him back to the bed, but the young man was already putting on his coat, hastening to the door, his lips discolored but his eyes blazing.

\- "The fool is going to get himself killed, we must stop him!"

\- "What happened with the prince?" asked the knight, frightened. "Please, you have to rest - what are you doing? You can't go out, it's snowing heavily!"

\- "If he thinks that condemning the passage will stop me, he's deeply mistaken! I'll go talk to him, make him understand!" was fuming Merlin, to whom the fever was giving an inordinate energy. "I did not crawl out of hell to come back and help him - for him to throw himself headlong into the first crude trap!"

\- "If you go out, your condition will get worse!" Lancelot panicked and soon this agitation attracted the other members of the household and everyone began to follow the wizard, speaking at the same time: Gaius was ranting, Gwen was begging, Daegal who did not understand anything was growling, the members of the _Alliance of the East River_ were urging him to pay attention to his health.

Finally Merlin stopped and yelled: "SILENCE!" Trembling with fury and despair, he faced them:

\- "If I let Arthur walk into Agravaine's trap, it's not just Perceval's life that will be lost! It'd be the whole of Camelot. What would be the point to live on if I lose _that_?"

They did not answer, lowered their heads under this indomitable look.

\- "Tell me exactly what happened while I was unconscious," the former captain ordered. "Do not miss the slightest detail. Something other than Perceval's capture was upsetting Arthur and I need to know what it was."

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

In the city swathed in white, the snow kept falling, swirling softly. The surface of the wells had frozen and you had to be careful when walking in the streets to avoid slipping on patches of ice.

But Gwaine cared very little about having an accident. Leaning on the neck of his horse, he was urging it to go even faster if it was possible.

He had hastened to _Caltrop Street_ when he had left his service, but there he had been told that Merlin had gone to Prince Arthur's house and that something terrible had happened between them, because the silver bell now lay on the floor of the secret tunnel.

When he stopped in front of the big, austere house, Gwaine jumped down from his mount and climbed the stairs four to four, elbows to his body despite the imposing ceremonial armor he was still wearing.

As soon as he saw him, Lancelot hurried towards him and summed up the situation. It was worse than the general had imagined: the prince was refusing to receive the wizard and Merlin had been waiting in the freezing garden for over half an hour, determined not to leave until he was heard.

The snow was still falling heavily.

Gwaine face-palmed and sighed. In other circumstances, he would have grabbed both young men by the ear and force them to explain themselves to each other. But since in doing this he would have revealed the secret, he just squeezed Merlin's arm quickly, then made his way to Arthur's office, easily dismissing the members of the household and the knights who were trying to block him.

\- "I know what saving Perceval means for you," he said, coming in like a storm. "I know because I fought alongside him too."

\- "Sir Merlin cannot understand that," Arthur said bitterly. "Someone like him, who only knows to manipulate people like pawns on a chessboard, has no idea of the friendship between brothers in arms."

Gwaine swallowed back the scathing comment he would have liked to give and, instead, gently put his hand on the prince's shoulder.

\- "If I had not seen him as a friend, if I had not placed complete trust in him, then I wouldn't be so disappointed..." muttered Arthur.

\- "We will not be able to save Perceval without his help. You must talk to him, convince him. If he has come to your place, when he is just recovering, it means he's willing to listen to you."

The young man's eyebrows arched.

\- "He was sick? I mean... sicker than usual?"

\- "His servants told me that for several days, there was fear for his life. He only regained consciousness yesterday."

The corner of the prince's mouth twitched.

\- "Oh", he said.

Then, still looking stiff and furious, he got up.

\- "I did not know he had been so sick," he mumbled.

And he went out to the garden.

The wizard, who was leaning heavily on a fence, stepped up as soon as he saw him. In a spurt of pride, he impressed on his weakened body the will to stand upright. His cobalt eyes met the prince's sapphire eyes.

\- "Your Highness is well aware that, whatever we do, there's still a chance that we might fail and that the knight cannot be saved?"

\- "We will only know if we try," replied the prince.

The snow was all around them, fluttering like a cloud of white, icy ash.

\- "Your Highness does understand that once we have rescued Perceval, you _will_ face the King's suspicions and Baron Agravaine's accusations? That you will be the first suspect and that, at the end of this case, if you have not been thrown into prison, you will at least have lost His Majesty's favor for a good while?"

\- "I am confident you will be able to give me the words to defend my case and that your advice will allow us to quickly recover the advantage we lost."

The icy wind was ruffling the fur on Merlin's collar. Gwaine, very worried about his health, wanted to take him inside and he could see that Lancelot was also in torment, but this battle had to be fought and neither of them had the right to intervene. At this price only, trust could be restored between Arthur and his advisor.

\- "You might not be the only one to suffer."

\- "All those who have sworn allegiance to me are willing to risk their lives. I will not give up on anyone and they know it. They too, you see, _chose_ me."

They were not blinking: face to face, the tanned prince with broad shoulders and fair hair and the pale, frail wizard with dark curls, one dressed in red, the other dressed in blue, both equally determined.

\- "Then Your Highness is of opinion that the knight of the _Scarlet Wings_ must be saved _whatever the consequences_?"

A shiver ran down Arthur's back, as if there was a terrible under meaning behind the wizard's words. But he nodded.

\- "I want it."

Merlin took a long breath.

\- "Then I will save him," he said finally. "But Your Highness must promise to follow my instructions to the letter and _never_ appear on this stage. _Whatever_ happens, whether before or after, whatever you hear, _promise_ you will not interfere."

The prince frowned, but he promised nonetheless. Merlin then tucked his hands in his sleeves with a strange expression, a mixture of relief and resignation.

\- "No matter who will save Perceval, you will always be accused of being involved," he repeated. "So you must have absolutely nothing to do with this whole thing, in order for us to build strong defenses."

Later on, when Gwaine would tell the story of that day, he would always start by lighting a candle, like the wizard had done on that fateful morning.

Everything had to be done in the time it would take for the wax to burn up, and in the end, when there was nothing left, then the promise would have been kept.

Arthur had not been allowed to know the slightest detail of the plan, so when he was summoned to the Castle, he sometimes needed more control of himself to not burst out laughing than to not give in to the provocations of Agravaine.

Sir Merlin had outdone himself. _Who would have thought he knew so many seasoned mercenaries?_ Daegal, of course, had been part of the operation, considering the number of broken arms and soldiers moaning that they had seen the devil. _How had the wizard guessed that the baron had placed the prisoner elsewhere than in the heavily guarded dungeons of the Secret Services?_ The more Agravaine tried to explain the situation, the more he was burying himself in lame excuses. Thirty people had attacked the most fortified prison in the country, then evaporated without trying to do anything, leaving behind a noisy chaos of magic fireworks. For a reason the baron could not explain clearly, the criminal was not chained but hidden in a simple courtroom, as if waiting for someone to come and pick him up - and that was indeed what had happened. None of Agravaine's decisions made sense (he obviously couldn't explain his _real_ objectives) and Uther Pendragon, deeply annoyed by this deployment of incompetence, this visible will to accuse the fifth prince who, for each accusation, could easily provide an alibi, eventually heaved a big sigh and massaged his temples.

\- "Lord Agravaine, come back when you'll have seriously investigated," he said. "Arthur, you are the main suspect, so you will show the greatest grace in submitting to investigations."

\- "Yes, Father."

\- "Find this criminal quickly, we are tired of this case."

\- "Your Majesty," interposed the baron again with his obsequious air. "We do not have much clues about the mercenaries who attacked the prison, but we do have a suspect. The knight was found in a village belonging to the merchant guild called the _Alliance of the East River_. There _is_ a person in this city who belongs to this guild and who always has a head start on everything."

\- "Oh," said the king. "And who is it? This person, for sure, must be immediately arrested and interrogated."

A cunning smile appeared on Agravaine's lips as he turned to the prince, whose face had blanched.

\- "Certainly Your Highness will not oppose us inviting into the prisons of the state the man called Merlin."

The winter light was pouring from the high windows of the throne room, but Arthur, frozen, felt like the world was getting darker. His heart was beating furiously in his ears. He clawed his nails into his palms, calling on to all his will not to protest, not to betray himself.

 _"Then your Highness is of the opinion that the knight of the Scarlet Wings must be saved whatever the consequences?"_

 _"You might not be the only one to suffer."_

 _"Whatever happens, whether before or after, whatever you hear, promise you will not interfere."_

He understood now, but it was too late.

The trap had closed and it was not he who had been caught in, but another.

 _One he had not thought of._

 _One who probably had no chance of escaping alive once in the clutches of the baron._

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

The house on _Caltrop Street_ was unusually quiet. Daegal, coming back from his usual raid on the neighboring gardens, did not notice it. He placed the red berries branches in a vase and proudly presented them to his master.

\- "They're beautiful," said the young man, smiling while putting on his coat. "Lancelot, you will make sure Daegal's bouquets are well attended during my absence."

The knight nodded, his heart heavy. Beside him, the child tilted his head to one side.

\- "Go somewhere?" he asked.

\- "Only me", said the wizard softly. "You will stay at home."

The kid's face crumpled down:

\- "Coming too! Protect Merlin!"

\- "It's not possible this time. Be good, Daegal."

The voice was peaceful, as usual, but the tone indisputable. The young boy pouted and then, noting that his master looked sad, wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his head against his chest like a cat.

\- "Come back soon!"

\- "I will", Merlin whispered. "I promise."

Gaius was packing some medicine, but he suddenly broke off, threw away the tongs with which he was gathering the herbs and punched the table, making all the boxes rattle.

\- "What's the point? They'll probably take them away and you'll have no choice but to find in you the remains of this magic that is..."

His voice choked. Daegal had been startled and now looked disapproving. The wizard pulled him away from him, went to the old doctor, and gently squeezed his shoulder.

\- "Forgive me for the concern I'm causing you," he whispered. "But there was no other way..."

At that moment, Gwen, very pale, came in.

\- "They're here," she said in a breath.

Merlin straightened up, very calm.

\- "Very well. Lancelot, take Daegal. I will go and greet them before they break in like miscreants. I do not think the baron teaches them good manners."

A few minutes later, the soldiers who had burst into the courtyard of the house froze, surprised.

In front of them, standing under the porch, Merlin was waiting for them. He stepped forward calmly, passed between them, and climbed into the cart with as much dignity as if he were a guest and not a criminal who was being arrested and taken to the most dreaded prison in the kingdom.

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up_** ** _: PRISON_**


	7. Prison

**PRISON**

* * *

The wickedness in the prison was spreading like an icy fog through the dark corridors leading to the dungeons. Everything was dirty and sticky with despair: stone walls oozing with dampness, shabby blankets, rusty bars, moldy straw, the hard board that served as bed, the heavy blood crusted shackles that chained the prisoners.

From time to time a distant lament came from the depths of the prison: moans or muffled crying. Sometimes the echo returned a hysterical, frightening laugh. Squeaks of fighting rats were rising up, then were quieting down in a clatter of little claws.

Somewhere, a drop of water kept falling with obsessive regularity. The monotonous pace of the guards who were making their rounds came back, then decreased again and you could only hear the swishing sound of a wet broom on the flagstones.

Baron Agravaine had first locked up Merlin and left him for two days without water or food. He knew the wizard could not survive if he tortured him, so he had planned to do otherwise, hoping that weakened by his illness, tormented by the evil atmosphere, his prisoner would get confused and not be able to control the answers he would give to the insidious questions of his jailer.

But in the pale light that fell through a narrow basement window, the blue eyes that lifted up to face the baron on the third day were perhaps bright with fever, but they were also perfectly lucid.

\- "You helped Knight Perceval escape because you're actually supporting Prince Arthur," said Agravaine. "You never intended to help Prince Morgan or Prince Alined to ascend the throne."

Merlin smiled peacefully.

\- "That's right."

Even though he was somewhat stunned at that honesty, the baron recovered quickly.

\- "I inquired. You're not only named the _Wizard of the East River_. You are in fact the _leader_ of the _Alliance of the East River_."

\- "I hope your spies did not make you pay too much for this information. It was not hard to find, I had left instructions for that."

Agravaine felt a vaguely familiar irritation rising inside him at the condescending tone of his interlocutor.

 _When had he been last humiliated? Ah yes. It went back to the time of Prince Leon... For thirteen years no one had dared challenge him._

\- "Who are you, Sir Merlin? A weak and sick man like you, even the smartest walking on this land, could not win the respect of the men belonging to the _Alliance of the East River_. Do not take me for a fool, I know for a fact that this merchant guild actually hides a group of mercenaries who think they're heroes and play vigilantes when they juge it necessary to save the people from the abuses of the nobility."

The prisoner leaned his head against the wall. It was clear he would not have had the strength to get up if he had been ordered to, but in his eyes blazed a burning, unshakeable will.

\- "Camelot is rotten to the bone", he said, his voice deep and vibrant, showing that his mind was far from being defeated. "We need a king who cares about his people, who accepts neither corruption nor negligence. If the monarch is upright and good, then the ministers will worry about fulfilling their duties and the people will bless his sovereign by working hard. The kingdom will be prosperous and its borders strong against our enemies. We need to get rid of traitors like you, who flatter Uther Pendragon, already so cruel and proud, and encourage his suspicious nature to better control it!"

\- "Blasphemy!" hissed Agravaine. "I will report your words to His Majesty, you will be executed!"

An amused laugh escaped from the prisoner's discolored lips.

\- "Report everything you want! Won't people think you have extirpated these words from me by violence? Everyone knows I'm sick and that I have no way to resist your torments."

This insolent laughter, even more than the indomitable glare in the blue eyes, almost made Agravaine lose it.

\- "Speak!" he growled as he gripped his interlocutor's collar. " _Who are you?_ No one in his right mind would have had the idea of supporting Prince Arthur when he was so far from the favor of the King, and you are too smart not to have seen the trap I was laying for him. Unless..."

He dropped his prey suddenly and the weakened young man fell back, coughing, on the moldy straw. The baron's eyes narrowed and he crouched down, a cunning look on his wrinkled features.

\- "Unless the prince is only a pretext and that _you_ are a former member of the _Scarlet Wings_..."

Merlin held his gaze.

\- "Arthur is Camelot's only hope. Anyone in his right mind can see that."

Agravaine straightened up and looked at his prisoner with interest.

\- "That's right, isn't it? You _are_ one of the traitors. Which one? Do not try to make me believe that you were merely a knight: your shenanigans to bring the fifth prince to the position he is now and your rescue operation show that you have received a good warfare education. And even though you can't summon it yourself, you do master the uses of magic. If you were not an officer, then it was your reputation, your past exploits that could have brought someone like Perceval or the tough lads of the _Alliance of the East River_ to submit to your leadership. How old were you at the time of the war against Caerleon?"

He scrutinized him intensely, now looking for the resemblance that had so much annoyed him since the beginning of the interview. _Who could have so easily gotten on his nerves, be so arrogant even under such dreadful circumstances?_

\- "You're afraid of him", Merlin said without trying to hide from the exam. "You're afraid of Arthur as you were afraid of Prince Leon at the time. You knew that once on the throne he would have gotten rid of corrupt people like you, that's why you invented the treason. What did you do to convince the King, what evidence did you bring him?"

The baron snorted.

\- "Evidence?" he sneered. "Oh, I provided one, the letter... but there was no real need for it. His Majesty was so afraid of his son's shadow that he was just waiting for an excuse to get rid of him. Uther Pendragon does not like anyone, Sir Merlin, and he's particularly suspicious of his sons. I just gave him a little help."

A cruel smile played on his thin lips at the disgusted look that the prisoner was throwing at him.

\- "So it _was_ you..."

\- "Oh, the letter was not written by me. But what does it matter to you?" laughed Agravaine. "You are going to die on the scaffold or in this prison. Even if you could send a message to your friends in the _Alliance of the East River_ , who would believe it? And even if Prince Arthur escapes the wrath of the King when I'm done with you, the investigation will never be reopened! Uther Pendragon would have to admit his error – it would mean writing in History books that he unfairly condemned his own son and his most loyal servants. This will never be allowed!"

The prisoner tried to retort but a violent coughing fit bent him in two, having him desperately trying to catch his breath. Drops of blood mixed with saliva splattered on the flagstones.

\- "Don't get upset, Sir Merlin. You must pay attention to your health", snickered Agravaine. "Perhaps a few more days in the dark will be good for you. Do not hope that I will let you appear before His Majesty and confuse him with your clever words: you will die alone when you have told me everything."

He took a few steps towards the door, then stopped and turned around.

\- "I'd stay awake if I were you," he added, in a friendly tone that sounded very cold in the darkness. "The magic in these walls has broken more than one before you and the fever, without your knowledge, could be more talkative than you… I _will_ know who you are."

The door dropped in a clatter of steel and was padlocked again. Agravaine's footsteps and sarcastic laughter drifted away in the gloomy hallway and Merlin slumped on the narrow board that was meant to be his bed.

His eyes glowed faintly, then he closed them. His shaking hands moved slowly, banging against his chest to try to clear the clots of blood that clogged his lungs. Shivering, he curled up under the worn blanket that smelled of mustiness, urine, fear, drained of his last threads of magic, trying to calm his breathing, soothe his mind.

 _Everything would be fine. He had planned all that. He only had to hold on for a few more hours. Everything would be over soon._

A sob bubbled in his chest and escaped him however.

\- "Oh, Leon... Leon..."

For him who had grown up in the army, under the orders of a father who, although he loved him deeply, often treated him more like a soldier than a son, the first prince had been a real model, somebody devoted, courageous, but also a big brother always ready to gently lead him to the right decision. It was to Prince Leon that he had sworn allegiance in his heart long before he was made a knight, for Prince Leon that he would have died bravely fighting alongside his best friend.

 _To think this smiling young man had been thrown into this prison on a false accusation, humiliated, chained in a filthy cell and finally sentenced to death by his own father who had not given him a look or the right to defend himself..._

For a few minutes, giving into exhaustion, the one who had been Emrys of Ealdor, long, long ago, stopped stifling the pain of his memories and let his tears flow out – not knowing that, in the shadow, on the other side of the bars, the baron's piercing eyes were watching him.

Even under torture, Perceval had never admitted the existence of other survivors, but there must have been some. Seventy thousand soldiers had fallen that day, and with the blizzard and the flames that were ravaging the battlefield, they had not been able to find all the bodies...

 _A former member of the_ Scarlet Wings _with an extremely brilliant mind, blue eyes and a particularly insolent laugh, who would have been very young at the time, close enough to the elder prince to call him by his first name and to cry over his fate…_

Someone Agravaine had known, he was certain of it... The answer was there, so close, in his memory. He would find it and that would be one more reason to discredit Arthur in the eyes of His Majesty when he tried to defend the prisoner - for if the prince had contained himself in an exemplary manner before the King when he had heard of the arrest of the wizard, it would certainly not be the same if he learned that _another_ survivor of the army was hiding under Merlin's identity.

The baron frowned.

 _Arthur, obviously, was not aware of this. It was a good thing. He would only lose his composure and it would be child's play to remove him permanently from the race for succession._ Thus, the person whom Agravaine was supporting in secret would get a little closer to the coveted throne...

Bursts of voices rang out and footsteps hurried through the dark corridors of the prison. The baron went to see what was happening, barking orders on the way to ensure there was no chance the prisoner would escape.

He climbed up the damp steps and emerged outside, blinking to get used to the winter light.

\- "Baron Agravaine, I arrest you in the name of the King!"

A hand twisted his arm in his back and steel closed on his wrists. Spluttering with fury, he demanded to be released, demanded to know who dared to restrain him, shouted for treason. Eyes blazing, Gwaine put under his nose the royal seal.

\- "His Majesty has just acquired evidence that you have been deceiving him for years, fomenting in the dark with our enemies and working for your interest rather than that of the kingdom! The king ordered all Secret Services' activities to be suspended. You are to be thrown into the dungeons of the Castle and Sir Merlin must be released immediately!"

\- "Lies! Slander!" the baron shouted. "The King does not know who this Merlin is, he's a traitor, a..."

Brutally gagged, he nearly choked.

\- "Take him to the royal prison," the general ordered, pushing him towards his subordinates. "Do not talk to him and do not let him say a word, this man is worse than a scorpion and his Majesty has decreed that he should be kept in solitary confinement."

His eyes bulging with anger, Agravaine struggled against the hands that were grabbing him, but he was dragged to a prison cart, into which he was thrown like a vulgar package.

Gwaine waited until the horses had taken away the prisoner who was still muffling threats, then he signaled to his guards to seize all evidence, handed out some more orders concerning the other officers of the Secret Services who had been arrested, and finally rushed inside the prison in a flight of his long red cloak.

He ran all the way down to the deepest part of the dungeons, his heart beating hard, had the door unlocked with an imperious order and rushed inside the cell.

\- "Emrys!" he gasped, when he saw the young man who seemed unconscious.

His eyes misted up and anger rumbled in his chest at the sight of bruises and scrapes on the skinny wrists as he released them from their shackles. Fever was raging in the weak body that he wrapped in his warm, thick woolen coat, then lifted into his arms.

The young man opened his eyes.

\- "Arthur?" Merlin whispered.

\- "The prince has shown himself worthy of your trust," said the general, while carrying his precious burden towards the light. "He did not give in to his impulsive nature and the King had no reason to doubt him, since he could not possibly be bound to these events, and for good reason. He's clear of all accusations, now."

\- "Perceval?"

\- "Safe. As you predicted, the disappearance of the thirty men who saved Perceval while the city was sealed only aggravated the baron's case. The King is convinced that Agravaine himself organized this escape, hiding the prisoner somewhere and planning to bring him out later to make the fifth prince look guilty."

Merlin closed his eyes. He was trembling and his nostrils were pinched, his lips discolored. His pale head lolled against Gawain's shoulder, who was walking lightly in spite of his heavy armor.

\- "The Baroness?"

\- "Was allowed to return home pending further investigation. When she came in tears to denounce her husband's actions and produced mail from a few years ago that showed Agravaine had ties with Caerleon, His Majesty got into a rage and immediately ordered the suspension of the Secret Services! How could you predict all these events? Everything happened exactly as you had said it would..."

The general stepped out of the prison and Daegal literally flew towards him. Gaius, panting, joined them a moment later and leaned over the patient whom Gwaine was carefully laying on a pile of furs in a cart where a brazier had also been placed.

\- "The Alliance?" stammered Merlin.

The old man groaned.

\- "Quiet. I need to examine you," he said.

\- "The report on the tax collectors arrived just in time to exculpate the rebels," Gwaine explained after a moment's hesitation at the doctor's angry glare. "The ministers were able to explain to the King the danger of becoming an enemy of such an influential merchant guild, and the charges were dropped. It was decided that the village did not know Perceval's real identity and that they could not be accused of harboring a criminal."

\- "Freyja..."

\- "Will you finally shut up?" snapped Gaius, irritated. "You're in no position to receive reports! Rest now or I'll make sure to knock you unconscious!"

Merlin closed his eyes. He looked absolutely exhausted and his face was even more hollow and ashen than usual, his dark circles deeper and darker, his breathing wheezing and erratic. Daegal, whimpering, huddled beside him, tucked him under a cloak, took his hand and put it on his cheek.

When the doctor was done checking on his patient, he turned to Gwaine, who was waiting anxiously and let out a deep sigh.

\- "Let's go home," he only said.

When Arthur arrived at full speed to the prison, a few moments later, and jumped off his horse, stumbling into the Court robes he had not taken off in his haste, the Royal Guards informed him that General Gwaine had already taken Sir Merlin home.

The prince pushed back his blond hair entangled by a senseless gallop across the city, climbed back into the saddle, turned his bridle, and pulled on the reins, suddenly crossed by a strange thought.

 _Why had Gwaine, who had not known the wizard for so long, entrusted the supervision of this important operation to one of his subordinates and chosen instead to take charge of escorting the released prisoner home, like if he was a precious friend?_

Arthur pondered for a moment, then shrugged. Gwaine was a loyal and good man. His reaction was natural, it was respect and pity for a sick man accused unfairly. Arthur could understand that Merlin was highly considered in the general's esteem: however frail he was, the wizard had strange charisma. If he had been a man in good health and had had knowledge of weapons, he would have made an excellent officer in the army...

The prince was about to head to _Caltrop Street_ when a man hastened towards him with a message from the Castle. He was to return immediately to assist to a witness hearing: new information had been discovered about the Black Powder case.

It was several days before Arthur could finally go home, his head still buzzing with the events of the last days.

Morgan was involved in the explosion of the warehouse. It could not be fully proved so the King had closed the case, demanding secrecy, but their father's favor towards the third prince had taken a serious blow, and it would be a long time before Morgan could be again considered a candidate for succession.

Baron Agravaine was languishing in prison. His wife had left home to become a nun.

The maid who had accused Freyja had disappeared mysteriously. Since no one else could produce any proof that the princess had compromised herself with a commoner and since Alice was passionately arguing that her mistress had never behaved indecently, Queen Ygraine had decreed that this story was to be forgotten. Of course, it was impossible and everyone knew it: marriage proposals from neighboring countries had been withdrawn one after the other and it was obvious that the princess would probably remain single henceforth, unless they would find a lord of lesser nobility who would accept her hand. This, indeed, suited Uther Pendragon who preferred that his daughter, to whom an entire army was obeying, would marry someone without any power and remain in a position where she offered no threat. Meanwhile, Freyja was sent back to Mercia to "think about her conduct".

Arthur, who understood better now the political game, was furious. He had realized that his sister's reputation had probably been lost on purpose: although female, Freyja, with her wartime deeds could be considered a potential heir. And now, if all the princes proved unworthy of the throne at the end, the succession would not go to a princess with such a scandal attached to her name.

Someone in the shadows had removed another pawn from the chessboard. Someone who was playing against Merlin, but in favor of _whom_ , this they did not know...

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up_** ** _: MEMORIES_**

 ** _We'll finally get a glimpse of what happened back then in the Northern Mountains and Arthur's reunion with a long lost friend will probably have us pretend we have some dirt in our eyes..._**


	8. Memories

**MEMORIES**

* * *

The snow was falling heavily and, as he stared out of the window, Arthur remembered the day the wizard had come to his house, begging him to reconsider their alliance. It felt like it had happened _months_ ago…

The prince opened the secret passage, went down the steps and picked up the bell that was still lying on the cold ground.

A burst of shame burned his cheeks as he thought back of the words he had said and, for once, he was almost relieved that Emrys was no longer there: his best friend would have certainly given him an earful.

 _"You have such a big heart. How come you don't have brains to go with it? You always charge ahead like a mama bear defending her cubs! If you'd stop to think, you'd see that most of the time, people aren't trying to hurt the ones you love"_ sometimes exclaimed the young captain, half angry, half-joking. Freyja would laugh – because Freyja was always on Emrys' side to tease him – but Arthur knew she was making efforts to curb her own impetuosity.

His sister had learned the lesson faster than him. Even her anger at her brother, when he had confessed to her what had happened in the tunnel, had been measured: she had been furious with the words spoken, but she had also understood the prince's pain. He now realized she had _never_ doubted Merlin, even when she had every reason to be hurt by his lack of reaction. Moreover, it seemed that she was fine with both possibilities: that the wizard had not known what had happened to her... or that he had deliberately chosen not to intervene.

Uther Pendragon, who had no idea of his daughter's feelings or of the inner conflicts of his fifth son, was very curious about the leader of the _Alliance of the East River._ His ministers had told him that although he was not an actual lord, this gentleman-merchant was highly respected and managed an immense territory, allowing the fluid circulation of goods, organizing the protection of harvests and tax convoys, regulating magic contracts, and sometimes acting as judge or mediator in quarrels between villages and clans. Someone who held such an influence over the people and even beyond Camelot's borders had to be put on the good side of the Court.

The king, having learned that Sir Merlin had been very ill as a result of his unjust imprisonment, had sent royal doctors to _Caltrop Street_ (they had been politely turned away by Lancelot after Gaius' irascible refusal to let them in). Uther Pendragon also encouraged Arthur to go see "this Prodigy of Wisdom" and make a friend of him.

The prince could have come through the main door, but he did not know what would be the future developments of the fight against their hidden opponent and, moreover, he did not want to impose after what had happened.

He tied back the frayed thread and, after a moment's hesitation, rang the silver bell. Then, hands slightly clammy, he waited with his head turned towards the other entrance of the secret passage. For a long moment there was no movement. Finally, the library panel slid aside and a lithe silhouette slipped into the tunnel.

\- "Wait," said Daegal, staring at him with his usual expressionless round eyes.

Arthur felt such relief in not reading any reproach on this wooden face that he realized that he had been really worried about how the young bodyguard would look at him. Then he remembered Daegal had not attended the painful scene and shame again burnt his forehead: even with his limited abilities, the child would have been able to understand that his master had been treated unfairly...

\- "Is Sir Merlin with someone?"

\- "Hum!" said Daegal. "Wait."

Arthur nodded and sat down on one of the chairs next to the small table on which he had lit a candle. Seeing the boy was not leaving and was leaning instead against the wall, arms crossed, chewing the tip of his ponytail, the prince turned to him again.

\- "Who's with Sir Merlin?" He asked.

Daegal cringed.

\- "Viper", he retorted, looking disgusted.

Arthur pondered for a while, trying to remember the nicknames given to the visitors – Gwaine, who enjoyed it far too much, had explained them to him one day – then his face lit up:

\- "Is he with Prince Morgan?"

\- "Hum!" said Daegal, pleased he had been understood.

\- "I see", said the prince thoughtfully. "My brother's probably desperate to gain our father's favor again and he came in search of advice..."

He felt sorry for all that Morgan did not know: he wished saving Camelot could have been done without going through a fierce fight for the throne, to the point that his family was being torn apart...

\- "Viper", Daegal repeated, shaking his head disapprovingly.

\- "He wasn't always like that," Arthur could not help but protest. But as no happy memory came back to him, he sighed and changed the subject. "Say, Daegal, if Morgan is a viper and Alined a slug, who am I?"

He waited with a grin, amused in advance by the horrified look he would see on Merlin's face when the wizard would learn his innocent bodyguard had blurted out the probably ridiculous nickname the people of _Caltrop Street_ had chosen for him.

Arthur had a sense of humor and had never been the last to laugh at himself before the tragedy, thirteen years before. He would have been probably much more relaxed if, instead of always addressing him with respect, the general and the wizard had teased him from time to time...

Daegal rubbed the tip of his nose, as if trying to remember something but not being able to put a finger on it, then he lifted his chin and said firmly:

\- "Bear!"

It was like a kick in the chest. Arthur felt all his blood flowing back from his face.

\- "What... what did you say?" he stammered. "What's my nickname?"

\- "Bear!" Daegal repeated, looking at him a little as if he were an idiot.

He pulled a face, showed his teeth, growled and made claws with his fingers. Then he smiled widely:

\- "Bear! Mama Bear!"

The tunnel blurred in front of the prince's eyes and he grabbed the armrests of his chair, feeling dizzy.

 _It could not be a coincidence... only one person could have thought of naming him that way... what if ... what if he had not realized... how could he have not recognize..._

A hand touched his shoulder.

\- "Your Highness?"

He blinked, swallowed hard, lifted his head to see Lancelot.

\- "You can come in, Prince Morgan has left." said the former knight, examining him with some worry.

Arthur stood up, his legs shaking, and saw that Daegal had scampered off.

\- "Good", he muttered. "How is he?"

\- "He's recovering slowly," said the other man, frowning. "Are you sure you're feeling all right? You look like you've seen a ghost. Did Daegal…"

The prince shook his head.

\- "Daegal did nothing wrong," he mumbled. "I'm fine. I'll follow you, take me to Merlin, please."

Lancelot stepped aside to let him pass, perplexity evident on his face. Arthur climbed the stairs to the other side, crossed the passage behind the library, and slowly stepped into the chambers that served as both bedroom and living room.

It was almost uncomfortably warm here and the atmosphere was saturated with the pungent odors of medicinal herbs. In the bed, Merlin was leaning on several pillows and was wrapped in furs. Gaius was making him drink something. The doctor was grumbling something, for a change.

The wizard was very pale, visibly thinner. His black hair was loosely tied and slightly mussed up, making him look much younger than usual. He was laughing softly and there was not the slightest cloud in his blue eyes as he teased the old doctor.

He saw the prince and his face lit up – even if Arthur had not been upset by Daegal's blunder, he would have been struck to the heart by the genuine joy in these cobalt orbs.

\- "Come in, Your Highness," Merlin said, dismissing the old man who wanted to take his pulse. "I am sorry to receive you like this, but it appears that I am nailed to this bed under penalty of incurring the wrath of my physician."

Gaius snorted and left the room after glaring at the prince over his lowered glasses. Lancelot brought a chair for the visitor and then withdrew, but not without a last puzzled look towards the prince.

\- "Your Highness?"

Arthur flinched.

\- "Is something troubling you?" the wizard asked worriedly, sitting up. "Has the King..."

\- "All is well at the Castle," interrupted the prince. "Sir Merlin, right now, in the tunnel, Daegal... Daegal said something curious. He mentioned you called me a… _Bear_ when you were talking about me."

Merlin froze. For a few minutes the silence was such that you could hear nothing but the crackling of the braziers in the room and the wind blowing behind the windows. Then the wizard started coughing and furiously hammered his chest, as if trying to clear a chicken bone.

When he could finally breathe again, his eyes moist, his cheeks red, he wiped his mouth, took a sip of water, then put down his cup and clasped his hands.

\- "May Your Highness forgive us. The princess was telling us of old memories, the other day, and she mentioned this childhood nickname of Your Highness. Daegal and I made fun of it. We were quite rude and I offer you my deepest apologies for it."

For a moment, Arthur said nothing, visible and painful disappointment showing in his sapphire eyes. Then he fell back into his chair and let out a deep sigh.

\- "So it was because of something Freyja said..." he murmured.

 _Of course it had been silly to hope it would be otherwise. How stupid of him to have imagine for a second that the frail wizard could be the so strong Emrys! And_ if _Merlin had really been Emrys, why would he have not told his best friend?_

Drowned in his sadness, Arthur did not see Merlin's hand crumpling his blanket, nor the bitter twitch at the corner of his lips as he looked at the prince.

 _He had been preparing for times like this, considering anything that could possibly unmask him and preparing all kinds of perfectly plausible excuses. But he had not realized how much it would hurt to dampen his friend's hope every time..._

\- "Do not apologize," said Arthur at last, raising his head, having recollected himself with a severe effort of will. "It's nothing compared to the things I told you that I should never have said..."

The wizard shook his head, as if to protest, to tell him there had been no offense, but he said nothing at the end, only gazed at the prince.

Arthur understood that he was already forgiven – and the relief that swept over him made him feel acutely how much he had feared he had ended this friendship with his rash words.

Troubled, he sought something to say, jumped on the first thing that passed through his mind.

\- "Morgan was here, wasn't he? What did you two talk about?"

Merlin smiled sadly.

\- "I told him he will probably never become king, but that it does not mean everything is over."

\- "How did he take it?" Arthur inquired curiously.

\- "Badly. He left furious. The fever of the throne is in him to the bone and I'm afraid he'll do something foolish in the coming months, especially if he's badly advised. Watch over him, Your Highness. If we could make him understand what it really means to govern, he could make himself useful and find a sense of peace."

The prince nodded. But before he could add anything, Lancelot came in.

\- "The princess is here", he said.

\- "Let her in," said the wizard.

The young woman rushed into the room with a flurry of brisk air. Her long, fur-trimmed cloak swept the floor with an armful of flakes. She looked dashing and fierce with her helmet, her fine eyebrows and her delicate chin, even if the tip of her nose was reddened by the cold. Her silver armor was shining, dotted with icy droplets. Merlin could not help but smile at seeing her so full of life, and Freyja's face lit up in response.

Arthur, on the other hand, got up and looked at his sister with severity. She took off her helmet, placed it under her arm, then shook her opulent chestnut hair and made a careless gesture towards the inner courtyard.

\- "I'm here on Mother's idea," she said with a light laugh. "Two generals came with me and would like to benefit too from the wisdom of the Wizard of Essetir if he can grant them a moment later. Before I'd go back to Mercia, the King wished me to come and present my respect to you, Sir Merlin. "

She came closer, formally bowed, then pushed aside her brother and sat down in the chair next to the bed, leaving her helmet on a small table, next to a bowl of medicinal tea.

\- "The Queen must have another idea in her sleeve," she whispered with a malicious spark in her eyes, leaning over to place her hand on the wizard's. "The leader of a merchant guild as famous as yours is not to be despised, but cannot be too difficult when the King's grants him a favor..."

Arthur jumped, turning red-beet at the highly indecent meaning behind his sister's words. But Merlin shook his head gently and, with great respect, withdrew his hand. The princess frowned and an obvious distress flickered in her eyes.

\- "Would it not be a good thing?" she muttered. "Is it because of the scandal? I understand you do not want to see your family's name suffer again, but you know me better than anyone else..."

Arthur felt a flush of heat threatening to set fire to his ears: his sister's behavior was so inappropriate! _What was the wizard thinking? How could Freyja be so imprudent? It was not surprising there was gossip about her! Maybe it had even started from here..._

Almost immediately, he felt ashamed to doubt the people of _Caltrop Street_. And to give himself some countenance, he went to take a look at the garden.

Sitting on the terrace with a basket, wrapped in shawls, Alice and Gwen were shelling beans and chatting animatedly – no doubt exchanging cooking recipes. Daegal was dancing around the generals, who amused themselves by sparring lightly with him, under the nervous surveillance of Lancelot. Gaius, his brows still knitted, was blowing on his hot tea, glancing frequently at the master's chambers. Their breaths were condensing and the snow was falling quietly, lazily dusting in white the slate roof and the small wooden bridge over the pond.

 _No, no one here would have hurt the princess. There was, in this place where so many different people lived, a tangible feeling of home... the feeling of a family to which he belonged too..._

Arthur breathed in deeply and, reassured, went back to the bed and sat on a stool, leaving the chair to his sister.

\- "How did you know the baroness would come to denounce the infamous acts of her husband – and in doing so saving you?" asked Freyja.

She was sitting upright, both hands flat on her knees – anyone coming in at that moment could never have imagined for a moment that this calm figure of authority was also a young woman worried and in love.

\- "I did not _know_ ," said the wizard peacefully. "I was _hoping_ the Baroness, whom the Alliance rescued from bandits a few years ago, would remember my name and seize this opportunity to unburden her heart of all the secrets she reluctantly kept and had confided to our women in Essetir, in a moment of weakness."

\- "Did you _bet_ your liberation on something as hazardous as this woman's conscience?" exclaimed Arthur, horrified.

Freyja's face had turned as white as her cloak.

\- "There are people unhappy and mistreated everywhere," sighed Merlin. "Quite often, it is enough to listen carefully to save someone from despair and, sometimes, something that simple will have big consequences."

A sad smile wandered on his lips. His thumb was playing distractedly with the seam of his sleeve and Arthur, his heart aching, could not help thinking of his best friend, who had the same habit.

\- "In the end, our choices are the only thing we have left. The baroness could keep on looking only at her miserable options, putting up with her life instead of living it – or she could get up and face her situation to save someone. We had no other way out of this trap. I wanted to believe she would find that courage in her."

The wizard raised his head and his blue eyes turned to the prince.

\- "People need to feel useful, Your Highness. Give them a chance even when they seem unworthy and you will see that often it will change them for the better."

Arthur nodded. For a few moments, the atmosphere remained serious, then Freyja cleared her throat and turned to her brother.

\- "Will you please go get the two dollop heads that are playing with stronger than them in the garden?" she asked innocently. "The King has recommended they also meet Sir Merlin, but we do not want to tire him too much either."

Arthur, far from being fooled, hesitated for a moment. Then he read the supplication in his sister's eyes and gave in, went out to leave her alone with the wizard. When he came back, barely a minute later, Freyja was standing near the window and she remained with her back turned while the two men greeted the patient.

Then the princess signaled her brother to take a seat in the chair and she stood beside him, refusing Lancelot's chair. Her helmet under her arm, a martial look on her face, she was all the warrior that was expected of her and her mask did not slip for a moment.

Merlin _was_ tired and the interview did not last long. You had to be blind to not notice the growing pallor of the wizard, the almost imperceptible trembling of his shoulders, his pauses longer and longer between each sentence, and the generals were not slow to rise and to take their leave, mentioning the long road ahead of them.

Freyja bowed very formally and left the room behind them, after a last look back in which there was tenderness and a lot of worry. Arthur was about to leave as well, tiptoeing so as not to disturb the patient who had closed his eyelids, when he heard Merlin's voice behind him.

\- "Tonight, if Your Highness pleases, come back through the tunnel... Someone would like to meet you."

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

Arthur had not expected the wave of emotion that overwhelmed him when he found himself face to face with Perceval upon leaving the secret passage with Gwaine.

The brawny man had shaved the beard under which he had concealed his identity for thirteen years, but this rugged features, marked by years and suffering, seemed only the shadow of the frank and open face of the young knight who had served side by side with Emrys of Ealdor in the _Scarlet Wings_.

\- "If you survived, were there others who did too?" asked the prince when his throat finally cleared a little.

The knight shook his head sadly.

\- "Only a few. A handful of men who hid like me far from the fury of the King, without daring to see their families again. Most of them are part of the _Alliance of the East River_... these are the merchants who saved us back then."

\- "And Emrys?"

There was Arthur's heart in this breathless question.

Perceval hesitated.

\- "I was not with him," he said finally, looking down. He had sent me circumvent the enemy with the vanguard. When I came back, I saw Baron Agravaine's banners: I thought they were reinforcements, but then they started to slaughter us!"

The prince's face crumbled down. He stumbled, dropped to his knees as if he no longer had the strength to stand up. Perceval sat on the floor in front of him and waited for him to collect his wits, refusing with a gesture the cushion Lancelot was sliding towards him.

Gwaine sat not far, casting a compassionate look towards the bed in which the wizard had turned his head away, as if he did not have the strength to bear with the scene.

\- "What happened?" Arthur muttered. "What _really_ happened? How could the ten thousand men sent by the King annihilate such a valiant army?"

The knight frowned.

\- "Does your Highness also believe the Baron's troops alone were able to defeat us?" he exclaimed, indignant. "We had fought against Caerleon's army for three days and three nights: most of us were wounded, weakened and exhausted!"

\- "So this victory of which Agravaine boasted for years and which earned him so much honor and power?" stammered Arthur.

\- "Was acquired at the price of the blood of the _Scarlet Wings_!" retorted Perceval, his eyes blazing.

Then his voice became serious, heavy with emotion:

\- "That year, in the North Mountains, there was nothing but cold and snow. General Balinor decided to attack with torches..."

As he spoke, the crimson embers were crackling discreetly in the room and a sheaf of golden sparks spurted from time to time in the copper basins. The snow outside had begun to fall again and white flakes swirled in the particularly dark night.

Merlin was Emrys again. Standing on the rocky promontory, his armor frost-glittering, his body stiff with fatigue, his fingers numb and his face flayed by the wind, he was watching with his father the plain full of thousands of soldiers sporting black and yellow banners.

 _\- "We will put an end to this war tonight," said the Earl of Ealdor, whose sharp profile was also marked by exhaustion. His black, curly beard was speckled with snow. "You will lead the ambush through the valley, I will ride with our knights in a frontal attack. We will defeat Caerleon and the peace will be signed for at least ten years, which will give you time to get married and give me some grandchildren before we go back to campaign for His Majesty's glory."_

 _\- "Yes, Father."_

 _\- "Your strategy is excellent. In the time when the reinforcements arrive, we'll have already finished the work and we will be able to rest while they'll do the clean-up. Come, my son. Let's go to battle."_

The big iron-gloved hand had rested for a moment on his shoulder, in a rare gesture of affection. Then they had parted, went down the promontory to go to their respective posts without a look back, their red capes floating behind them.

And then hell had wrecked the plain.

\- "... you could no longer make out day from night. The flames that devoured the battlefield were melting the snow, the sky was filled with red smoke and evil black ashes were fluttering everywhere. We were frozen to the bone and yet our skin was burning... Agravaine's troops sealed the valley and started to rain a cloud of arrows on us. Then they launched the assault..."

Perceval paused. His eyes shone with tears.

\- "That day, most of those who died had no idea what was going on," he said quietly. "For me, a cavalry movement pushed me aside and threw me into a crevasse. I was badly injured and lost consciousness. When I came to my senses, everything was over. There were only broken spears and stained banners as far as the eye could see on the deserted battlefield. All the bodies that the snow had not swallowed up had been gathered by the Baron and burned on a pyre."

His voice choked.

\- "It was only much later, in following the merchants of the _Alliance of the East River_ who had saved me, that I met some comrades who had escaped that hell too, only to fall into another nightmare: we were considered traitors! Prince Leon had been condemned to death and the head of the Earl of Ealdor was exposed like that of a criminal at the Gates of Camelot..."

Lancelot, who was standing in a corner, was trying to contain his emotion. The story was awakening his own memories of the battle with Caerleon. He had survived only because, at the end of the third day, Emrys, concerned to see the reinforcements slow to arrive, had sensed that something was wrong and sent him to scout out of the valley: the knight had watched the massacre from the mountain, helpless to join or to save his brothers-in-arm. After the departure of Agravaine's troops, he had come back and dug in the snow, weeping and screaming, searching for survivors until he had found his young captain badly burned, losing his blood by a thousand wounds...

Fists tightened on his knees, jaw clenched, shoulders quivering, Gwaine was staring at the wooden floor and silently telling himself repeatedly that he had no right to let out his indignation and pain: another in the room was suffering much more than him and saying nothing...

Arthur flinched. With a haggard face, he struggled to his feet, swayed.

\- "He will not come back," he said in a mechanical, broken voice. His arms were limp and his sapphire eyes blurred by his pain seemed to contemplate something very far away. He gasped, bowed his head – but his blond bangs could not hide the tears streaming down his cheeks.

His voice choked.

\- "Emrys will not come back..."

Lost in his grief, he did not see Perceval's distraught gaze turning briefly to the bed, nor the sad expression on Lancelot's face or Gwaine biting his lips to stop himself from yelling "he's here!"

The snow had stopped. The garden was shrouded in white in the icy darkness and no star was reflected in the pond. Dawn was near and it was the darkest, coldest hour.

\- "What good is it that the King remembers my existence, that the ministers praise me, that I finally have influence, if I can do _nothing_!" suddenly shouted the prince, kicking a small table that toppled and broke.

Tangerines rolled all over the floor and Daegal, who was sleeping curled up in a corner of the room, awoke with a start and immediately went into battle mode. Then he realized there was no danger, yawned and ran his fingers through his tangled hair before sitting back with a pout, a little upset.

Arthur's eyes were flaming now. His hand on his sword, his back very straight, he seemed about to ride at full speed to the castle, to wake up Uther Pendragon, to set the world on fire.

\- "The truth must be brought to light. I will reopen the investigation, I will wash their honor! And so his name, at least, will not be forgotten..."

\- "The King would refuse to admit his mistake and Perceval, who is considered a criminal, would not be listened to", protested Gwaine. "Demanding the reopening of the investigation without preparation, without any evidence, would be madness! Even though you have His Majesty's favor, you don't have enough influence in the Court, it would be your downfall..."

\- "It doesn't matter what happens to me!" Arthur yelled with arrogance mixed with despair. "Our people have suffered too much and Emrys has died unjustly. If I can't at least do this _little_ thing, _how_ can I face him when I'll see him in Avalon?"

Merlin pushed back his covers. Lancelot rushed to help him get up, supported him to the prince who was trembling with anger and sorrow, and who glared at the wizard, preparing to defend himself against his arguments.

\- "Your Highness, it is not only about restoring the honor of those who died in the Northern Mountains that winter," said Merlin softly. "We must also prove Prince Leon's innocence."

Like a cold shower, the name immediately stopped Arthur.

\- "What do you suggest?"

\- "When I was in prison, Baron Agravaine mentioned the letter that triggered everything. It was certainly his idea, but he did not write it. If we could find out _who_ wrote this letter, get a solid confession and evidence that it was a conspiracy, then we could ask for the investigation to be reopened. In the meantime, Your Highness must keep a low profile, not mention anything of this matter in front of the King."

The prince remained stiff and silent for a long time. Then he let out a shuddering sigh, suddenly overwhelmed by a deep weariness.

\- "Very well," he said dully. "But remember _nothing_ , not even the throne, is more important than proving the truth."

The wizard bowed.

\- "I won't forget."

Arthur looked at him for a few moments, then he nodded.

\- "We will retire, now. Your house is much less frequented than mine, I'll entrust you with Perceval's safety. The gates of the city are closely watched and people are looking for him, he will not be able to leave Camelot for a while. Gwaine will tell you when we have an opportunity to help him return to the _Alliance of the East River_."

He squeezed Perceval's arm again – the brawny knight saluted him respectfully – motioned for Gwaine to follow him and then walked towards the entrance of the secret passage. But in front of the library, he paused.

\- "I miss him, Merlin... more than ever, I miss my best friend..." whispered the prince without turning his head, in a voice as fragile as that of a child.

It was the first time he confessed his pain aloud and everyone froze in the room.

\- "Emrys of Ealdor lives in Your Highness' heart..."

The words had been spoken with effort.

\- "I don't want him to live in my heart," Arthur said with a heartbreaking accent. "I want him to live in this world..."

Perceval sniffled uncontrollably. Gwaine turned his head away, his fists clenched. Lancelot, looking down, strengthened his arm around Merlin who was leaning on him.

In the silence, a dying cinder crackled and some sparks flew away as the red embers sank deeper into a mound of white ash.

The prince lifted his head. His eyes were full of tears.

\- "If he could have met you, I think, like me, he would have been happy to become your friend," he said with a poor smile.

Then he stepped in the secret passage and disappeared into the darkness of the stairs.

Gwaine hesitated, but followed him on a sign from the others. Perceval pushed back the library while Lancelot led Merlin back to his bed, helped him lie down on the pillows, wrapped him carefully in the fur blankets.

\- "Captain..."

\- "Leave me", the wizard ordered in a low voice.

He was very pale and had bitten his lip to blood. His hands were knitted tightly in the hollow of his blankets, but still they were shaking.

The two men, dismayed, left the room in silence.

Some gray smoke was dancing above the half-extinguished braziers. Outside, it was almost morning, but the room suddenly seemed darker, empty, cold. Merlin flinched when Daegal climbed on the bed and sat cross-legged in front of him, tilting his head to the side.

\- "No crying!" said the boy, frowning.

\- "I'm not crying," the young man protested weakly. Then he touched his cheek absent-mindedly and realized it was wet. "Oh."

\- "No crying!" repeated Daegal stubbornly. "Brave!"

Merlin gasped – it could have been a sob or a chuckle choking in his tightened throat. His blue eyes were exhausted, but a new determination was born on his face as he stroked the ruffled hair of the young guard.

\- "Yes, you're right. It's not over yet. I need to be brave."

When Arthur would be on the throne, when Prince Leon's and his father's names would be washed of all suspicion, when the seventy thousand forgotten souls would finally be sent to Avalon with honors... only then would he be able to rest, to listen his sick body, to reveal his identity to his friend and to let his tears flow freely.

 _When he would have accomplished his task._

He just had to hold on until then, whatever the pain, whatever the cost.

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up_** ** _: SPRING HUNT_**


	9. Spring Hunt

**SPRING HUNT**

* * *

The plum trees in bloom were giving out a sweet fragrance and the stone slabs of the garden were covered with delicate pink and white petals. Comfortably seated atop a tree, Daegal was playing with his little wooden figures, while keeping an eye on Merlin who was reading on the terrace.

Somewhere in the house, Gwen was happily humming as she kneaded dough in a cloud of flour. Lancelot had gone on a run and Perceval was chopping wood in the sunny backyard.

Everything was peaceful and Arthur, when he stepped out of the secret tunnel, drew in a deep breath as if to fill his lungs with that quiet atmosphere, so different from the castle. Then he crossed the room and perched on the open window sill next to Merlin who raised his head and put down his book, smiling.

\- "What can I do for you today, Your Highness?" asked the wizard.

\- "Can't I just pay you a visit?" protested the prince.

A year ago, such a joke would have bitterly pinched Merlin's heart, but it was different now. The blond young man had taken into the habit of coming whenever his tasks gave him some free time. He always found a pretext for it, but it was quite obvious he just needed to confide in attentive ears: he was, after all, the youngest member of the Court and he had no one – _other than Gwaine, whom he could not be too close to without raising suspicions in Uther Pendragon's eyes_ – with whom talk about the knights who had fallen in the Northern Mountains or of his dreams for Camelot.

Sometimes the prince came to see Perceval, to share with him memories of the campaigns they had done together with Emrys, more than thirteen years before. But most of the time, he would sit in the chair that was always waiting next to Merlin's bed, by the sunny window, and the other members of the household would smile and glanced fondly at them as they went on with their usual chores.

The two of them could talk for hours about anything. Arthur was tireless about the improvements that could be made to the army and Merlin easily got led into the subject, despite his protests of innocence: "Oh, I only know one or two things in this area." But they also spoke of foreign policy, management of the Kingdom's finances, conflicts between courtiers, magic abuses, texts of laws... arguing and counter-arguing when they did not share the same opinion, often agreeing at the end of the day.

Sometimes the prince brought ministers with him: Sir Geoffrey and other simple men, who had a real passion for their profession and who loved to compare with the brilliant mind of the wizard. Gaius put a stop to it when the discussions continued late into the night, but he did not stop the visits, seeing clearly the pleasure they gave to his patient.

Daegal, as far as he was concerned, cared very little about who came so long as he was allowed to stuff his face with desserts. He preferred, however, when Arthur's visits coincided with Gwaine's: while the adults were discussing uninteresting and complicated things, he could fight all he wanted with the General!

\- "Today there's indeed something", the prince admitted after accepting the smoking cup of tea Merlin was handing him. "The King would like you to come with us on the Spring Hunt."

His preoccupied face turned to the wizard.

\- "I know what my father has in mind. He will certainly raise you to the rank of Duke or Marquis, allowing you to meet the Queen. And after a few months..."

He hesitated, unable to bring himself to finish his sentence, disgusted by the speech his parents had given him the night before.

\- "And after a few months, he will offer me the hand of his youngest daughter," concluded Merlin quietly. His blue gaze rested gently on the prince. "The King hopes to erase the scandal of the princess and, at my death that cannot happen too far in the future, knowing my poor health, to take control of the _Alliance of the East River_ while finally having the opportunity to marry Lady Freyja to a person more worthy of her status..."

Arthur looked down, his forehead red with shame.

\- "I'm sorry you're involved in these power games."

Merlin chuckled.

\- "I came to Camelot _especially_ to be involved in them, Your Highness," he replied. "I was the one who wanted to step into this mess, remember?"

The prince laughed too, but he still looked unsettled, fiddling with the tepid cup of tea.

Merlin watched him for a moment without saying anything, then he leaned his neck against the fur-covered back of his chair, crossed his hands over the book on the blanket that covered his long legs and heaved out an imperceptible sigh.

\- "I do not intend to marry your sister, Your Highness," he said.

Arthur lifted his head. He seemed about to say something, but changed his mind. In his sapphire orbs, several feelings were fighting: he was ashamed to have for a moment thought that the wizard, suddenly showing greed, would jump on this opportunity – _and_ _in what would he have been wrong? It seemed quite obvious that Freyja_ loved _Merlin, even if the prince could not bring himself to imagine his sister marrying another than Emrys_. On the other hand, although the prince would never have expressed it in terms as cruel as his father, he felt the young woman deserved better than a weak and sickly husband... but hearing these words in Merlin's mouth sounded strangely like a knell.

\- "The princess is a flower blossomed on the battlefield. She can only be happy with a man able to fight alongside her, to lead troops with the same courage as her - someone who can protect her but also understand her ardent heart."

Merlin's pale face turned to the prince. He smiled sadly.

\- "I cannot be that man," he said. "I hope Your Highness understands and will help me watch over the princess when the time comes for her to see that."

Arthur nodded, unable to shake off a shudder. The wizard's words had never sounded so sincere. His love for Freyja was almost palpable – much deeper than one might have suspected. _But why then did it seem that there was a dreadful under meaning in his words?_

Gaius came out under the porch behind them and cleared his throat sternly. Merlin rolled his eyes and the prince, his tension suddenly gone, could not help but grin.

\- "It's time to take your medicine."

\- "I know, I know", sighed the wizard and he obediently drank to the last drop the potion that seemed excruciatingly bitter. "Here, satisfied?"

\- "Humph! I will be satisfied when you rest _for_ _real_!" the doctor grunted, arching his eyebrow.

\- "You should try relaxing some time," Merlin said innocently. "Being always upset is very bad for your health, so I'm told."

Arthur could not repress a giggle of laughter and he stifled it hurriedly in his sleeve, turning his back to the old man who glared at them both, then went back inside, grumbling something inaudible that they suspected was not politically correct.

\- "I don't know what I did to him, really..." Merlin said. "His potions are more and more disgusting."

\- "I believe the mere fact you're ill offends the good doctor," said the prince maliciously.

He then resumed a serious face, looked worriedly at the wizard.

\- "I know you don't really have a choice, but coming with us for the Spring Hunt, will it not be too tiring for you?" he asked. "There are several days of travel and then we will be housed in tents. The weather is better, but the nights are still very cold and you are not fully recovered after... after your ordeal this winter."

 _After the prison. After the awful words in the secret tunnel._

Merlin smiled, visibly touched by this solicitude.

\- "Rest assured, Your Highness. I am much better and Lancelot and Gwen will certainly pack enough furs and blankets to allow a small army to bivouac during a blizzard."

\- "Oh," said Arthur, thinking suddenly of something. "Daegal will be able to come since he's your bodyguard – His Majesty is quite curious about him – but I don't think anyone else will be allowed to come with you."

Merlin wanted to interrupt, but the prince was on a roll.

\- "As far as food is concerned, of course, the King's cuisine is always made up of the freshest ingredients and we can easily ask them to prepare less rich and more suitable dishes for your health. I won't bring servants with me, but I can detach one or two officers to take care of you. For the rest…"

He grimaced, lowering his voice, glancing furtively into the house.

\- "The Court has excellent doctors, I hope Gaius won't take umbrage..."

Merlin smiles again.

\- "Everything will be fine, Your Highness," he said kindly. "I am a simple man and I don't need much."

 _Yes, everything would be fine._

He had not foreseen this invitation in his plans, but he could see the benefits that could derived from it and, even if there had been a choice, no one could have prevented him from coming to the Spring Hunt: it would be the perfect opportunity to mingle with the Court when it was the most relaxed, to meet the Queen... the perfect time to look for who, among these people who were so closed to the King, had written the letter which had sent to their death Prince Leon, the Earl of Ealdor and seventy thousand men loyal to their country.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

The trumpets sounded long after the imposing procession had set off, leaving behind the high walls of the capital. The soldiers' footsteps were puffing the dust of the road in rhythm, the banners were floating in the wind, the wheels of the wagons were rattling, the dresses and the colored shawls of the servant girls gave the impression that a bed of flowers was moving in a long ribbon. The horses of the officers, caparisoned in gold and leather, were prancing happily, their bells tinkling with the copper fringes of the parasols. You could hear calls, laughter, from time to time the sharp cry of a hawk.

The trip lasted four days to the verdant valley at the foot of Mount _Tintagel_ , where the Spring Hunt took place each year.

Morgan, who was clearly in disfavor, had not been allowed to come and Morgause, who had a slight cold, did not come either. The royal family consisted solely of Uther Pendragon, Queen Ygraine, Arthur and the fourth prince, Mordred, who had been pulled out of his books for once.

Gwaine, of course, was part of the excursion, with about three hundred of his best knights.

The weather was magnificent. There was not a single cloud and the sky was very big, very blue, above the meadows. The road followed a river that was singing, flowing lazily to the south, throwing short silver bursts into the sun. At night, the bright stars were raining over the camp and Daegal never tired of admiring them.

On the third day, Arthur managed to escape his princely duties for a short while and he went down the long line to bring his horse to Merlin's wagon.

The wizard did not seem too tired, despite the jarring of the wheels and the lack of comfort of the previous two nights, and they chatted amicably while the little bodyguard disappeared somewhere in the procession – probably to play with the youngest soldiers or to tease the huge lion-like hunting dogs who were trotting by their masters, imperturbable.

\- "I wanted to ask you for a long time... what's with Daegal exactly? Was he born like so? Was it a blow to the head from which he never recovered?" asked the prince, absently stroking the neck of his horse who was snorting, annoyed by flies.

The wizard smiled sadly.

\- "Oh, Daegal was not born like that. And if you consider the speed at which he's learning, he was probably a very smart little boy... but his misfortune was that he was kidnapped at a very young age by a guild of assassins, who trained him in combat and made him take all kinds of drugs, until he was no more than a weapon."

\- "Did you save him from these evil people?"

\- "No, I found him after they gave him up. My people conducted the investigation: the group had been dissolved and the trained children were killed. Daegal probably did not know any secrets, that's why they did not deigned to put an end to his poor existence and left him to die on his own!"

Merlin's blue eyes flashed with a harshness that struck Arthur: this man, always so much in control of himself, so peaceful, seemed absolutely beside himself at the mere mention of this memory. This made the prince realize that it was probably better to be in the good graces of the wizard rather than his enemy...

\- "It's been seven years now. At the time, even though I was starting to recover, I was still very weak... a profound hatred was devouring me... if I had not found Daegal, if I had not had to fight to keep this little spark of innocence and life in him, maybe I would not have..."

Merlin flinched, as if he had suddenly remembered who he was talking to. He paused, smoothed a crease on his coat that did not need to be, then looked up and smiled at the prince who was watching him curiously.

\- "Daegal is like a younger brother to me," he said. "Even if he can never get over the damage caused by the mistreatments inflicted on him in the past, as much as possible I want to give him back his lost childhood."

Arthur was too polite to insist, so he changed the subject, chatted a few more moments, then returned to the front of the procession when Daegal came back with a tuft of wildflowers mingled with tawny hair and tall grass, knotted with a piece of frayed ribbon, that he proudly offered to Merlin before taking back the reins.

The next day, they reached the foot of Mount _Tintagel_. Insects were buzzing in the grass wrinkled by a pleasant breeze, and the beautiful white tents that had been erected to accommodate the Court turned out to be vast and comfortable.

When everyone was settled, changed, rested, the bugles sounded, gathering riders and ladies who wished to join the opening of the hunt.

Uther Pendragon, in excellent spirits, fired the first red arrow, then galloped off, challenging his sons to find before him the white deer that would bring good luck to the kingdom during this new year. In a thunder of hooves and cheers, the Spring Hunt began then.

Daegal, eyes bright and begging, turned to Merlin, who nodded with a smile. The young guard jumped onto the saddle of his dappled gray pony and flung himself in pursuit of the group that was disappearing into the dazzling sun.

\- "Beautiful, isn't it?" said a musical voice behind the wizard.

He immediately bowed very low.

\- "Your Majesty."

The Queen hid a small smile behind her fan. Her long, deep blue-green gown, strewn with precious stones and embroidery, was sparkling like the plumage of a peacock, dragging in the grass with a silky rustle. Her heavy tiara was adorned with pearls and gold, her hair fashioned in a complex way, her face powdered gently, her eyes underlined with black, her lips painted in ruddy ink. None of these artifices could hide the fact that she was no longer young, but it could not be denied that she was still very beautiful.

\- "Sir Merlin. I believe tea has been served. Would you mind sitting with me for a little while?"

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up:_** ** _QUEEN_**


	10. Queen

_**Just to let you know: I've changed Vivian's name back to Morgause. It made more sense, for all sorts of reasons. I don't think it will hinder your reading, considering how little she's been on stage so far, but I thought I'd tell you anyway. ^^**_

* * *

 **QUEEN**

* * *

On a gesture from the Queen, after a few minutes of polite and superficial conversation, the maids retreated out of earshot. Merlin acted as if he had not noticed anything, but he mentally prepared himself to face what was to follow.

\- "A lot has changed since you came to Camelot, Sir Merlin," Ygraine said, delicately sipping her tea. "Things that might seem insignificant and yet are not to be neglected – things that only a person who is very familiar with the inner fights for the throne and yet outside of these intrigues would notice."

The young man only smiled.

\- "Maybe you noticed? For example... the youngest princess, who only leaves Mercia once every two months to come give her reports, has spent the entire winter in the capital this year, without anyone pressing her to stay."

A bird of prey was hovering over the meadow, sometimes letting out a sharp cry. The impassive Royal Guards, around the patio, were sweating buckets under the sun in their parade armor. In the undergrowth near the river, some maids were giggling while doing laundry.

\- "Lately, Arthur seems more confident. He expresses himself better and with wisdom before His Majesty ", continued the Queen in the same calm tone. "The courtiers, who once paid him little attention, are now interested in his opinion and among the new ministers, many are talking about the king's fifth son in the corridors, praising his virtues."

\- "His Highness Prince Arthur is indeed worthy of admiration," said the wizard cautiously. "His courage and his endeavors are known beyond our borders."

The Queen had a strange smile, in which there was maternal pride, but also bitterness and sadness.

\- "Oh, but his judicious political choices will soon make people talk more about them than of his achievements in the war, if he keeps on this way. Don't you think it's a little odd? Of all my children, the one who has always shown the least interest and finesse in this area is about to become the best at this game of thrones... Would you like some more tea, Sir Merlin? Here, let me pour you some."

And before he could protest that he was not worthy of being served by the queen, she had graciously folded back her sleeve, lifted the teapot and, with unexpected awkwardness, spilled hot water on the wizard's wrist.

He quickly withdrew his hand with a stifled exclamation and Ygraine stopped the handmaids who were rushing towards them, dismissed them and leaned to check that he was unscathed... examining his arms somehow feverishly, as if she was looking for something in particular.

Then she straightened up, looking both puzzled and anxious.

\- "Nothing... How is that possible? she muttered. "Not even the slightest thrill of instinctive magic... I was quite certain that _only one person_ could have made my children change so much – brought a smile back on Freyja's face and given Arthur this audacity while keeping him from burning his wings..."

Inwardly, Merlin was tensed like a bow: he had considered the possibility of being found out by the queen, it was not as if he had not been expecting it, but he had really hoped it would not happen, because he knew it would be useless to pretend and he was not sure where this conversation would lead them.

Ygraine raised her chin.

\- "I know my son," she suddenly said resolutely. "Others may have thought he had nothing to do with the escaped prisoner's case, but _I_ watched him and I saw how he controlled his anger... and the sadness that has been following his footsteps since then. He _knows_ the truth about what happened in the Northern Mountains, so he must have met this _Scarlet Wings'_ knight one way or another. But he would never have kept quiet unless _someone_ , in the shadows, had convinced him to..."

She lowered her voice.

\- "Only _one person_ could ever stop Arthur when he had something in mind. I don't know why you don't look like him, why you do not carry his scars. Maybe you're not _him_ , but you must have come to accomplish _his_ revenge."

Merlin's eyes blazed and his chest heaved, as if he could not suppress his emotion at that moment.

\- "It's not about revenge. It's about justice!"

\- "Are you going to kill the King?" the Queen panted, twisting her sleeve so hard that a seam was torn.

He stared at her, as if he could not believe what he was hearing, and her face fell.

\- "He murdered my son!" she stammered.

For a few moments, there was only a silence so thick that it blocked all sounds of nature and of the encampment – a silence during which Ygraine was no more than an old and bitter woman, in front of a young man who had suffered a thousand deaths and yet remained heroically faithful to his heart.

Then she sat up, ran a tired hand over her face and suddenly the queen was back.

\- "Alined is exiled. Morgan has lost the King's favor. These two had made their choice, they played and lost. I do not want to know if your hand had anything to do with that. I know I won't be able to make Arthur waver in his decision. He deserves better than he has gotten so far, anyway, and if he's the one you want to put on the throne, I will not do anything to stop you. Besides, He knows the risk. Mordred thinks only of his books, Morgause doesn't care about anything but her beauty. I suppose they won't get burn in all this, as long as they remain neutral – and I know they will. But Freyja... Freyja's innocent and it's only because she loves you that she is involved in all this... Please... spare her..."

Merlin did not look down, even pierced by that proud gaze, even at the supplicating quiver in the Queen's voice, in spite of herself, when she mentioned her youngest daughter.

\- "Even if I wanted to leave her out of it, she'd claim her share of danger. Lady Freyja also chose where she wanted to stand, long ago", he said quietly. "I did not come to destroy, Your Majesty, I came to _rebuild_ Camelot and, even if some rotten branches must be cut, I will not condemn those who'll step up to help me in this task – including those who regret what they did in the past and wish to repair it."

Ygraine bit her lip and a scarlet drop of blood pearled on her powdered-white face.

\- "Even the King?"

Merlin did not blink, even though his nails were digging into his palms.

\- "Even the King."

He had thought about it for a long time, tossing on his bed while in the claws of fever, struggling not to give into the hatred and suffering that devoured his mind, heart and body. But for the next dynasty to be a reign of peace, built on solid foundations, on respect and righteousness, there could be no rebellion or revenge. In order for Arthur to be able to face his people and to inspire complete trust, Uther Pendragon himself needed to be the one to reopen the investigation, needed to admit his mistake and apologize for the atrocious acts allowed for thirteen years earlier... and, _after that_ , despite everything, to still _entrust_ the throne to his fifth son.

The fan unfolded curtly and Ygraine hid her expression behind the exquisite landscape painted on the silk.

\- "I don't understand," she said slowly. "Why spare the king – and lose the reputation of Freyja? I would have given her to you, I would have found a way... I don't have much influence on the King but I could have convinced him, perhaps... You refuse to call what you're doing a revenge, but did you really need to do all this harm to come where you are now?"

Merlin turned very pale.

\- "I never wanted to hurt Lady Freyja!" he protested.

The Queen did not reply and he saw that she did not believe him. But before he could insist, she interrupted him with a royal gesture.

\- "I won't tell the King about your real motives and identity, rest assured. But whatever you do, I do not want to have any share into it ", she added quietly.

Then her hard look faded off, her body became languid again. She dipped her lips in her cup, lamented that her tea was cold – which was not true – and called back her maids.

\- "I had a great time talking with you, Sir Merlin," she said graciously. "His Majesty had advised me to get to know you better, assuring me that you were distinguished and wise, and I see that the King, in his goodness and foresight, was right as always."

Merlin got up and took his leave, bowing respectfully. He felt the Queen's gaze following him as he left the patio and slowly returned to his tent, lost in his thoughts, rewinding their conversation in his mind to try to determine how much he could believe in the words of this woman who had spent forty years in Uther Pendragon's perverted Court.

The hunting party came back in the early afternoon, starving but delighted, and the camp was filled again with cheering and loud voices, chinking pints of ale, with horseback, sword or bow challenges.

Gwaine took advantage of his rare time off to go check on Merlin and the wizard told him what had happened. The general frowned, worried.

\- "Don't you fear she will change her mind and denounce you?"

Merlin shook his head.

\- "She won't. In any case, I learned at least one thing. She's not our enemy pulling the strings in the shadows. Nor did she write the letter, thirteen years ago. She's still mourning her son and all her hate is directed against the King."

Gwaine rubbed his beard, troubled.

\- "Forty years have passed since she was forced into this marriage... why did she not act against him in all this time?" he wondered, lowering his voice. "Nobody comes closer to him than her... and there must some people out there who would have followed her in a coup d'état, had she decided to go against her husband. She's the niece of the previous king, after all..."

The wizard massaged his temples.

\- "The cost of her freedom would have been too expensive," he said darkly. "Even her most loyal supporters would not have allowed an heir to the usurper to stay alive and none of the Queen's children would have been spared... and anyway, I'm not sure she would have had the courage to take over the management of the country."

He felt very tired, suddenly. _How easy it would have been to give up for him too! To let days and years go by without trying to change anything – just lamenting, yielding to indifference or to bitterness..._

\- "His Highness Prince Arthur to see you, Sir Merlin", announced the young squire who was guarding the tent.

Merlin straightened up and smiled warmly at the visitor who was entering without waiting, while Gwaine turned his head away, coughing to hide his emotion: _how quickly they had disappeared, those gloomy thoughts he had seen dancing in the cobalt eyes of his friend, at the name of the prince..._

\- "Has the hunt been good, Your Highness?"

Arthur pulled a chair to him and sat down, brushing off some dirt and grass on his red linen sleeve. His blond hair was plastered with sweat on his forehead and he smelled of horse leather.

\- "Father brought back the white stag."

\- "Good thing Your Highness finally cornered it or we'd still be at it", laughed Gwaine. "The game led us on for miles!"

The prince shrugged, as if it did not matter. But it did, and the wizard hid a small, mocking smile, thinking of the proud old man whom everyone feared and to whom his son had yielded the victory for the sake of respect of the traditions – perhaps also because of his good heart – not even knowing that in the eyes of the Court he had shown the magnanimity of a king.

\- "Did you bring books with you by any chance?" asked Arthur who seemed preoccupied, and Merlin was caught off guard by the sudden odd request.

\- "Uh... yes, Your Highness. I knew I wouldn't be able to participate in all these violent exercises and since I have promised the good doctor I would be the model of patients while I'll be away... _erm_... I did bring some books to entertain myself."

\- "Good, very good," said the prince, whose face visibly relaxed. "It's wonderful, I'll borrow some from you."

The other two stared at him in amazement and he seemed to realize how strange his request was, coming from someone who spent all his time on a saddle, sparring or racing.

\- "Oh. It's not for me. It's for Mordred. He fell during the hunt and, although he was not hurt, the humiliation was enough to ruin his mood."

\- "The fourth prince rarely rides," said Gwaine with compassion. "At the hellish speed we were going, it was not easy for him to keep up the pace. He showed a lot of courage and held on for quite a long time. It's just that..."

\- "His body is limited," Arthur said with sadness. "I wish Father would see the many other qualities of my brother: his brilliant mind, his great historic knowledge and his acute sense of analysis... but the King does not attach much importance to these things if they are not associated with a martial air, with physical feats."

\- "That's why the fourth prince has never been considered a potential heir", Merlin concluded. "It might be a blessing, but it's also a curse. A brilliant mind trapped in a weak body will know more about frustration than limited brains in a strong vessel."

He stayed quiet for a few moments, as if what they had been talking about had reminded him of his sickly condition, then got up, opened a chest and began to search inside.

\- "I have here some books which might be of interest to Prince Mordred," he said, getting animated, piling on his arm several books, which one could easily see had been read till the point of being almost worn out. "Perhaps, if Your Highness reckons it'd be good, I could even meet the prince and compare some reading notes with him…"

He straightened up a little too quickly and black dots swarmed before his eyes. He let go of the books and they tumbled to the floor as he held out a wavering hand to cling onto something.

In a jump, Gwaine was beside him. He grabbed the wizard's arm and helped him to a chair.

\- "I beg your pardon, Your Highness," Merlin chuckled when his head stopped spinning.

He made a gesture to pick up the books, but the prince was already kneeling, gathering and dusting them.

\- "Do not apologize," Arthur said with some abruptness. He got up, handed the books back to the wizard, then cleared his throat. "I will ask my brother if he's willing to make your acquaintance. You'll give him the books yourself."

He paused and a sincere smile showed on his lips.

\- "That's a great idea you had and I'd appreciate a lot if you could spend some time with Mordred, indeed. It would certainly lift his spirits. The fourth prince is neglected by all – even more than I was in the past years. I can't visit him as often as I wished and my company isn't very interesting, I can only talk about battles and training squires... so he will be delighted to have a brilliant mind with whom to joust intellectually!"

Then his sapphire orbs clouded, both concerned and stern:

\- "But I don't want you to exhaust yourself either. You must watch over your health first of all."

He glanced around.

\- "I'll ask people to bring some more braziers. It's too cold in here for you."

Well, the heat inside the tent was hardly bearable and Gwaine was sweating profusely, but Merlin's hands were indeed shaking slightly.

\- "In three days, when we have completed all Spring rites, we'll be able to enter the Hunting Lodge on Mount _Tintagel_. I must ask you to endure a little more time the discomfort we're imposing on you."

\- "I thank Your Highness for his solicitude," Merlin mumbled, his eyes lowered.

Arthur's hand swept off the comment. He told them he had to go back to his duties, reminded Gwaine to make sure the wizard was not missing anything, then left the tent.

\- "He quite likes you, now," whistled Gwaine happily.

He turned his head towards his friend and his broad smile crumpled down when he saw that the young man's face was even darker than before the prince's visit.

\- "It wasn't supposed to happen," muttered the wizard. "He _can't_... he just accepted Emrys' death, he's just starting to recover from years of mourning... What terrible irony is that?"

Gwaine swallowed hard, refusing to understand the meaning behind these words.

\- "Why is it so difficult to accept?" He protested. "Sure, everyone loved _Emrys_ – but you're the only one who hates _Merlin_! Yes, you're _different_ , you're often sick, you can't do magic... but can't you see? This name you took, that person you've become... you're no ghost of the past, it's no longer a character created solely to restore justice in the country. Merlin _is_ a real person – whom we love too."

He stopped talking and his eyes held the wizard's glare, challenging him to deny the truth of his words.

Merlin finally let out a strangled chortle and he turned his head away, furtively wiping a tear.

\- "What would I do without you, Gwaine?" he sighed.

The general massed his neck, embarrassed.

\- "You'd have to hire someone to fight with Daegal and keep him from gnawing at chairs."

\- "Chairs good for teeth!" exclaimed the young guard's voice, and they realized he had slipped into the tent without their knowledge.

Gwaine rolled his eyes. He gently ruffled Daegal's hair, then took his leave, promising to come back later, when his duties to the King would be over.

Merlin rested for an hour after making sure his young guard had eaten – he himself had no appetite – then he left his tent to attend the various competitions of the afternoon and, as he had expected, Prince Mordred invited him to tea under the shade of the trees near the river.

While Daegal was splashing everywhere, chasing after the silvery fish that spun like arrows beneath the shining surface of the water, the two men chatted and discovered they had so many common subjects of interest that the King's fourth son promptly asked the wizard to share the evening meal with him and kept him near him until late into the night.

Merlin came back to his tent completely exhausted, much to Daegal's chagrin, but he really had enjoyed those moments – forgotten everything else for a few hours. He slept straight to the next morning without nightmares, without needing to sit down to breathe like he usually needed. He did woke up with a slight headache but it quickly dissipated, fortunately, because Mordred soon showed up, a pile of books higher than him on his arms, a big smile on his face.

They spent long hours again discussing magic or history of the country, reciting passages from their favorite books, showing each other their reading notes and laughing together when they agreed on a particular author they both disliked.

Arthur came to see them during the King's nap and spent most of his time listening to them, a little flabbergasted at the ease with which these two had become friends. The expression of genuine joy on the usually pale and sullen face of his brother pleased him and at the same time pained his heart: he wondered if he had ever seen him so enthusiastic, so _alive_... even in Leon's time...

But if at that time their eldest brother always made the effort to spare some time in his day to go to greet the fourth prince, Arthur couldn't say it had been his habit. He would have much rather go riding or bow-training than burying himself in the dark library, and Emrys, although he did enjoy a big book on rainy days, was always ready to go with him...

That evening, the Full Moon Hunt took place. Beneath the star-studded black vault, the velvet-thick grass at the foot of Mount _Tintagel_ had a silver glow and the river looked like a long ribbon of glass on the edge of the dark woods carved on the mauve horizon like Chinese shadows.

On his way back, Arthur circled the camp as he did every night and saw there was still light in Merlin's tent. Moths were fluttering around a brazier by the door. One of them came foraging too close to the flames and took fire, disappearing in a brief rustling of sparks.

At that moment, Gwaine lifted the flaps at the entrance and stepped out. He stopped, surprised, when he saw the prince. Frowning, he bowed.

\- "I was about to go looking for Your Highness," he said grimly. "Come in. You must hear that."

Arthur hurried in, feeling a shiver ran down his spine.

Inside, a man was standing with the wizard. He was wearing a royal guard uniform stained with mud and blood.

\- "What's going on?" asked the prince, his hand slipping immediately to his sword.

The man turned around and Arthur, stupefied, realized it was Lancelot.

\- "Camelot is sealed and Prince Morgan is marching on us with five thousand soldiers," Merlin said. "It's a rebellion, Your Highness, and we're trapped here."

* * *

 _ **TBC**_

* * *

 _ **Next chapter coming up: LEADER**_

 _ **(And some action, yay!)**_


	11. Leader

**LEADER**

* * *

If Arthur had not been completely shocked by the news and if his mind had not immediately switched to battle mode, he might have noticed that Lancelot's report was military accurate, without any superfluous information. But he paid no attention to the form, so much was the content absurd and frightening.

\- "A coup d'état," he gasped.

\- "Fomented by your brother but you're officially the instigator," Merlin summed up quickly, frowning. "If his troops are victorious – and ten to one, they have every chance on their side – Prince Morgan will make sure the King, you and all possible annoying witnesses will have perish in the battle. He will pretend he arrived too late to save his Majesty whom you had taken hostage and the ministers will have no choice but to crown him upon his return to the capital."

\- "What an infamy!" Gwaine hissed.

Lancelot nodded vigorously, since his mouth was full. He had finally sat down on Merlin's orders and was now devouring the remains of the wizard's supper: he had not stopped galloping for a day and a night to come warn them. The blood on his clothes was not his, but Perceval's. The knight had been wounded while helping him leave the city and they hoped he had managed to go back to Gwen and Gaius before being captured again…

\- "Do you think Morgause is an accomplice?" Arthur asked, running a nervous hand through his blond hair. "Sealing the city is very serious. It means we won't get any help from the seven hundred royal guards garrisoned there, nor from the regular army to which we won't be able to send any message."

\- "Perhaps she was deceived by Prince Morgan, convinced it was the only solution to protect the capital until the situation was resolved..." said Merlin thoughtfully. "He might have produced a false military seal, bribed a general – which would explain why he could not requisition the entire army, only a fraction – maybe even bewitched the princess. Or perhaps she's colluding with him, but claims to be unaware to protect her back in case the rebellion fails..."

\- "That's not important at the moment", Gwaine said impetuously. "What are we going to do? What would be the best course of action? Risk everything and try to attack head-on, or retreat to the Hunting Lodge and fortify our defenses?"

The prince, astonished, realized the question was not addressed to him, who had led dozens and dozens of military campaigns successfully, but to the frail wizard who had probably never set foot on a battlefield.

\- "Let's look at the map," Merlin replied – not noticing at all the oddness of this situation. "Five thousand men do not go unnoticed and even if Prince Morgan destroys all watch posts on his way, the news of their arrival will soon reach the King. But by then it'll be too late to plan, we'll need to be ready."

They spread the large white skin on the floor and leaned over it.

\- "The Hunting Lodge is located atop Mount _Tintagel_ , which is flanked by three cliffs and, in fact, easy to defend, but hard to attack", said Merlin. "We could hold three days, maybe four, waiting for reinforcements."

Arthur crouched down and pointed to the little drawing that represented the main fort on the western border.

\- "Two thousand men are stationed in Denaria," he said. "If Father grants me the royal seal, I can mobilize them and be back in less than a week."

\- "Five days if you go through the _Valley of the Fallen Kings_ ," said the general, pointing at an ink curve.

\- "But that won't be fast enough," sighed the prince, getting up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

\- "I know," said Merlin, suddenly becoming animated. "On the way, if you send a message by pigeon to Princess Freyja, she can be here in three, maybe even two days."

Without even thinking about it, carried away by his fervor, he grabbed Arthur's sword, pulled it out of his scabbard in a lithe movement, as if he had done this all his life, and pointed on the map at a range of mountains that stood between them and the shores of the sea:

\- "Princess Freyja's army is better known for its naval feats, but she has excellent riders, who watch over the coast in all weathers and have sure footing. They will have no trouble crossing through _Isulfor Pass_. Prince Morgan will not expect to be attacked from the south. Only his vanguard is on horseback – five hundred men, perhaps, no more. Let's say Gwaine leads a party with our three hundred guards, we could already decimate a..."

He turned his head toward the general and saw the man was frantically blinking at him.

Suddenly the sword weighed heavily in his hand and his neck felt terribly stiff, as if he could feel Arthur's gaze on him.

He dared not lifting his eyes and, hoping that pretending nothing was amiss would raise less suspicions, he finished his explanation, his voice slightly hoarse.

\- "With Lancelot's forceful escape from Camelot, the enemy probably suspects that we are alerted, but at best he thinks we are holed up in the Hunting Lodge. They will not imagine that a squad could fall on them at this point of their advance and we can easily deprive them of this mobile advantage."

He swallowed hard and bowed, presenting the sword in front of him.

\- "Your Highness, I let myself be carried away in the heat of the discussion. Forgive my disrespectful gesture."

Arthur looked at him for a few moments with a strange fixity, then he shook his head, took back his sword and slipped it back in the sheath.

\- "Don't worry about etiquette in a moment like this," he said. "I will make some preparations for my journey. At dawn, if the news has not yet reach the King, we'll take the risk that Lancelot would be the one to bring it. We can't afford losing any more time."

The others nodded somberly: Uther Pendragon, of course, would be suspicious if the news reached him through someone else than the official channels...

\- "I'll entrust the rest to you, gentlemen," said the prince.

He left the tent, his back very straight, his shoulders square. As soon as the flaps of the door fell back, Merlin dropped into the chair Lancelot had hastily vacated for him, and Gwaine let out a deep sigh.

\- "Do you think he...?"

\- "No", said the wizard, his brow swamped with cold sweat. "No, I don't think so."

But he looked like he was trying to convince himself.

Fortunately, there was too much to think about to worry about what the prince had really thought of Merlin's imprudent action and of the possible memories of military campaigns it might have aroused. Soon the two men no longer thought of it, and having send Lancelot to take some necessary rest, they became completely absorbed in the question of the siege they were about to hold.

The stars were just beginning to fade when a rider covered in blood broke into the camp and collapsed, claiming that Prince Morgan was marching against them with an army and that he would be there in less than three days.

In the general panic, Arthur was summoned immediately to the royal tent and he impressed everyone with his calm demeanor. In a few short sentences, he explained he would go to the West Frontier to get help and he humbly asked for the military seal.

Uther Pendragon immediately ordered the seal to be brought, but he hesitated at the moment of giving it to the prince. He was divided between his fury against Morgan, his terror at the thought of what would happen when the Hunting Lodge would fall - _he had once led a rebellion and knew perfectly what a bloodbath it would be_ \- and his suspicious nature: with the royal seal, Arthur would have in his hands the means of raising up all the armies of the Kingdom. Was he going to use it to save his father or to take the throne for himself?

His son's blue eyes were watching on him… proud, honest, brave... the King was almost ashamed when he suddenly realized that the fifth prince knew perfectly well what was going on in his head at that precise moment – that he had always known, but that it had never stopped him from putting all his strength, all his heart, in all tasks entrusted to him, no matter how much ingratitude he received in return or the dangers he had to face.

Uther Pendragon nodded, his throat tight. He went to the young man who was waiting, on his knees, and placed in his open palms the cold and heavy seal.

\- "Go like the wind, don't let anything stop you," he murmured. "Camelot is in your hands, my son."

Arthur got up.

\- "In five days, the flags will be in sight of the mountain, Your Majesty," he said solemnly.

Then he snapped on his heels and left the tent. The bright light of the sun engulfed his silhouette, dazzling the King before the linen flaps of the door fell back.

In the bustling camp, Arthur retrieved his saddled horse as possible and headed to the river that he had to cross to go west.

Merlin and Gwaine joined him on the way, while still giving out orders to the soldiers and servants who were loading carts with what was to be transported up the mountain. The prince could not help but notice how accurate, straightforward, and perfectly adapted the wizard's advice was to each situation, each interlocutor. There was not the slightest fear, not the slightest doubt in Merlin's eyes, and his authoritative voice seemed to draw from everyone the best of themselves.

 _Had he_ really _never set foot on a battlefield?_

Arthur did not have time to look into this matter, so he pushed it to the back of his mind and, once he had put the pigeon's message that the sorcerer had written in his belt, he faced the two men to whom he was going to entrust the terrible responsibility of holding on and protecting the King until his return.

\- "When I'm gone, there'll be no turning back for you," he said slowly. "If Morgan's army pierces through our defenses... I will be able to escape, even though I'll considered a traitor, but you will not survive..."

Gwaine grinned and opened his mouth to reply something like "don't you worry, we'll give our best and I'm sure we'll be fine", but Merlin was faster than him.

\- "Your Highness's priority must be the country," he said passionately. "The rebellion has already begun. If we cannot wait until you return, you must immediately lead troops to Camelot and take power to save the nation."

His eyes were blazing.

\- "We have faith in you, Your Highness. Believe in us and do what is right – without looking back. That's what we want, all of us – Gwaine, your sister Freyja, me... and, I think, it's what Prince Leon and the knights of whom you honor the memory would have wanted too."

Arthur's mouth felt terribly dry. He tried to answer but found nothing worth saying, so instead he grabbed the wizard's lean shoulders and squeezed them briefly.

Then, after a last glance at Gwaine, who nodded firmly, he turned, jumped smoothly onto the saddle and urged his horse on across the valley, heading to the West.

Merlin's gaze followed him for a moment with an expression on his face that would have betrayed him completely if someone other than the general had been able to see it, then he shivered, like if he was waking up from a dream, and turned to Gwaine.

\- "Come. We have work to do", he said.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

Shadows were beginning to stretch on the plain bathed in warm tawny light when the last cart disappeared at the turn of the first corner of the road winding up to the Hunting Lodge.

All that remained in the meadow crisscrossed with marks of wheels, hooves and footsteps, were the empty tents and the two hundred Royal Guards who were preparing for their nocturnal expedition against Morgan's vanguard.

Uther Pendragon, Ygraine, and Prince Mordred were safe on the mountain with the courtiers and the servants. All that was important had been transported there too – food, medicine, weapons, etc. The last hundred soldiers were busy consolidating the defenses, following the instructions given by Merlin, whom the General and the Queen had enjoined everyone to obey.

Gwaine finished going round the camp to check they had not forgotten anyone, then went back to the place where, the day before, the king had watched the ritual dances in honor of Spring, not knowing what was in store for him...

It was only then that Gwaine realized there was still someone down there who should have been safe atop the mountain.

On the wooden platform still adorned with bouquets and ribbons, Merlin was immersed in the map stretched between four stakes. His thumb was rubbing absently his sleeve's seam as he thought intensely. His blue eyes went from one small pinned flag to another and his long brown robes lightly flitted in the evening breeze. He was not wearing his coat and, on the small table next to him, was the bowl of porridge - untouched, reduced to a thick, cold, greyish paste - which had been brought to him at noon.

Gwaine sighed and walked over to his friend.

\- "How is it that you're still here?" he asked gruffly. "Do you also plan to lead the surprise assault on the enemy vanguard yourself? You have not eaten, you have not rested all day long and you're still standing here although night is about to fall. It's not reasonable, come on! We're going to need all the clever resources you can get out of your brilliant mind in the next five days, we can't afford to let you wear yourself out."

\- "Besides, Gaius and Prince Arthur would skin us alive if you fall ill during their absence," added the soft but chiding voice of Lancelot, who had just joined them, and who put on Merlin's shoulders the coat he had found who knew where.

\- "I'm fine and I know what I'm doing", protested the wizard - but the way he snuggled into the garment and tightened the fur collar around him showed that he had not realized how cold he was. "Did the alchemists prepare what I asked for?"

\- "Yes," said the general, looking concerned. "But I'm not sure we can keep the battle going on long enough to prevent the army from reaching the camp until tomorrow night, and the plan..."

\- "Let me worry about the plan," Merlin interrupted impatiently – very much in the same way Emrys of Ealdor would have. Then he softened, put his hand on Gwaine's shoulder and squeezed it amicably. "I trust you and I know Prince Morgan has no habit of military campaigns and that his pride will not let him listen to his generals' advice. The stinging defeat you will inflict him at dawn tomorrow will prompt him to camp out of the valley, he will only venture to attack us at nightfall – and by then we'll be ready to receive him with all honors..."

He had an ironic smile in which there was no joy.

Gwaine shared a glance with Lancelot, who nodded imperceptibly, then he scratched his beard.

\- "So there's no reason for you to be still here," he said decisively. "The last cart just left. I'll take you to the Hunting Lodge and I _hope_ you'll get some proper sleep there at least for a few hours before the next phase."

\- "Listen to him. We won't hesitate asking Daegal what you really did," said the knight, unmoved by the sharp glance the leader of the East River Alliance shot him.

\- "You guys aren't knights, you're mother hens," muttered Merlin.

While Gwaine was gone to get his horse, Lancelot unhang the map and rolled it carefully, slipped it into its oblong case and handed it to his master.

\- "Here, that's the last thing that needs to go uphill."

Merlin's hand lingered on the hand of the brother-in-arms who had survived hell with him.

\- "Come back," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

The knight stood at attention as an answer. Oh, there were some gray threads on his temples, but he looked great with his dark hair and his bright black eyes, in the armor he had not put on in thirteen years.

His courage and loyalty had never wavered in all these years.

\- " _Aye_ , Captain!"

The sun was gone now. The shadows were growing and the river exhaled cold mist.

The sound of hooves coming towards them drew the two men out of their emotion. It was time to separate. Lancelot hoisted his friend on the horse and Gwaine mounted behind Merlin, deliberately ignoring the painful pinch of his heart at the memory of days when the young man could jump onto the saddle in one single graceful pirouette.

It was not the time to dwell on the past, when the future was at stake.

Gwaine grabbed the reins, secured his arm around the wizard's waist to make sure he would not fall, and after a brief nod to the knight, he urged on his horse and hurried to the uphill path that led to the Hunting Lodge.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

Arthur's gaze followed the white dove flying south with the precious message as the first star lit up in the purple sky.

He then jogged down the watch-post stairs, elbows to the body, grabbed his water skin which the sentry had refilled, hopped on the fresh mount waiting for him, and set off at a gallop.

The cold air rising on the plain was lashing at his face, his limbs were cramped, tensed by the infernal ride, his tired eyes were itching. He leaned over his horse's neck, forgetting his gurgling stomach and his aching back and urged the mount up.

He had to save them. Far away, back there on Mount _Tintagel_ , the fight was about to begin and everyone was counting on him.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

The night was burning. Dark and twisted silhouettes, the trees stood in the midst of the flames that were crackling endlessly. Golden sparks were flying to the cold stars, scattered by the wind.

On the other side of the stream, the Hunting Lodge was silently preparing for the last battle.

They had earned an extra day, bargained hard for every inch of ground: the surprise attack on the vanguard had done heavy damage to the enemy - the hidden bombs placed in the tents even more. The ambush on the slopes of Mount _Tintagel_ had considerably slowed down the advance of the troops and the various magical traps on their path had participated in demoralizing Prince Morgan's men.

It was no longer a matter of facing a mere three hundred Royal Guards, but of defeating a formidable adversary – the leader of the Hunting Lodge's defenses.

Gwaine knew he was not the man their enemy now dreaded. His heart tightened as he thought of all the things Emrys of Ealdor could have done for Camelot if he had not fallen at the Northern Frontier...

The general wiped his sweaty forehead: he was standing on the ramparts to watch the progress of the fire. Merlin came to him.

\- "How are things?" he wheezed, gasping after the effort of climbing the ladders.

\- "If rain falls as expected at the end of the night, we'll be surrounded at noon", Gwaine answered, scrutinizing the pale face of his friend. "When did you rest for the last time?"

The young man's hand chased off the question impatiently.

\- "Some courtiers who know how to wield the sword stepped up to join the defense", he said when he caught back his breath. "Most of them are old, though. About twenty servants also volunteered, but I fear they won't be of much help either. I will place these people in the inner court, to protect the reception room where the royal family will be barricaded. That should at least slow down the enemy a bit, if things get to this..."

A knight approached them and knelt quickly.

\- "Scout to the report, Sir Merlin, General," he announced, greeting them both in the military way. "We were able to get closer to the enemy and we have information on the Great White Snake."

\- "Speak," said the wizard, leaning on the palisade.

The man immediately complied and Gwaine turned away to hide a grin.

The royal guards no longer made fun of the frail young man. They glanced admiringly at him when he was looking at the map in the headquarters, lined up to let him pass on the ramparts, were hung to his lips when he harangued them. All of them were ready to die for the King, but Gwaine could discern in the eyes of a soldier the difference between resolute obedience to duty and the impetuous desire to give one's life to protect someone.

Merlin did not have the strength to wield a sword and to fight alongside them, but his brilliant mind, his flamboyant authority and his contagious courage had infused those three hundred souls with the determination to follow him to the end of the world - to conquer with and for him.

And Gwaine cared very little at that moment of the effect this was going to have later on the race to the throne. They _needed_ a miracle, so he had categorically refused to be content with passing on the instructions to his men, pushed his friend to the front on the first day of the siege and remained stubbornly silent, despite Merlin's furious glances, until the wizard had no choice but to address this rather rough crowd.

And then the miracle had happened. Emrys had risen from his ashes – voice vibrant of passion despite the cough he had to repress, blue eyes glittering with pride despite his pallor, his back very straight even though his hand was clinging to the edge of the table – and it had been as if everyone could see him, standing there in his golden armor and his long scarlet cloak. Then ferocious hurrahs had erupted and, if some perhaps had just been carried away by the wave of enthusiasm that day, three nights later no one had any doubt left.

The scout had finished his report and left with new instructions.

The woods were still burning – their last defense before the enemy's inevitable onslaught. They could no longer see the stars engulfed by the thick smoke of the fire and the storm clouds gathering in the night. In the courtyard, the royal guards were eating in small groups or sleeping, rolled in their cloaks, on the ground. The windows of the Hunting Lodge were closed on this side, but on the west face, over the steep cliff, they were wide open: the murmur of prayers and the delicate notes of the rebec played by Queen Ygraine to appease Uther Pendragon were floating to the warriors.

As he helped the wizard down the ladders, Gwaine remembered the dream he had in the past.

 _If war had not broken out, if the army had not been accused of treachery, if snow and fire had not devoured the abandoned knights in the Northern Mountains... then after a few years, Emrys' father would no doubt have appointed him general-in-chief and Gwaine would have served alongside his friend as second-in-command._

But Balinor was dead, his son had lost everything, even to his own name, and the title that had been unjustly ripped from them had been worn for thirteen years by another.

It was only fair that the defenders of this other mountain knew Merlin was their true leader.

If they were to die tomorrow, at least Gwaine wouldn't steal away another honor and he would be where he had always wanted to be: fighting alongside his captain...

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up_** ** _: BATTLE_**


	12. Battle

**BATTLE**

* * *

A little before dawn, the Great White Dragon attacked. Those who survived the Hunting Lodge battle would never forget what they saw on that day.

There were rumors, of course. It was said the creature was hideous – it had been captured by Morgan when it was only a young serpent and it had grown up trapped in a narrow well, which had distorted its skeleton. It was also known that the druids the prince had gathered around him over the years were manipulating forces much darker than legally authorized magic.

But nobody expected to see such a monster emerge from the fire surrounding the Hunting Lodge.

The dragon was flying heavily, without any grace. Its wings were awfully twisted, viscous liquid dripped from its veiled eyes, its muzzle was pink and smooth like the naked flesh of a skinned rabbit. When it was roaring, it was like hearing the appalling mooing of a cow disemboweled alive.

It was terrifying and pitiful at the same time.

There were all sorts of sorcerers among the besieged – from the young servant who tried his hand at a few "tricks" to the courtier who summoned ghosts in his basement, from the magician jester who mastered his art perfectly to knights who knew only enough to put on some more protection. They had been identified and they unfurled a protective dome on the Hunting Lodge, as they had been told the day before during the briefing, then gritted their teeth, enduring assault after assault of magic and bestial fury.

Of course, they knew they would not be able to hold on like this all the way until reinforcements would arrived. Even if they managed to keep the Great White Serpent at bay for several hours, time would inevitably come when rain would begin to fall: the fire would die and Morgan's army would attack: the sorcerers, standing with their arms outstretched on the ramparts, would make easy targets for the archers.

Gwaine hated the plan, but there was no other solution. All he could do was pray that his friend's strength would not betray him too quickly and let Lancelot go with Merlin on the highest balcony.

The hideous dragon was hovering above the Hunting Lodge. From where they were standing, they could clearly see his bony spine, his floury flesh, his translucent scales like pinkish shells – and the purple markings of the abuses that had been inflicted on it.

\- "I thought Prince Morgan _loved_ this creature," Lancelot muttered, disgusted.

\- "Their destinies are tied together," Merlin said thoughtfully. "Maybe now the pain is also felt by the third prince as a constant reminder of his frustration... and maybe as we free one, we'll be able to relieve the other..."

He retrieved from his cloak a small blue flask and Daegal, who was with them, grunted furiously but did not snatch it from him, as he had tried the day before. On a gesture from his master, he crouched in a corner and buried his chin in his knees. A storm was brewing in his round eyes.

Merlin broke the wax seal of the flask, brought it to his lips and emptied it completely.

Then he threw the little glass bottle on the ground where it shattered with a crystalline noise and leaned over the railing. His blue eyes glowed golden as his fingers clenched on the granular stone.

\- " _Aithusa!_ " he called in a voice that thundered on the castle.

Everybody shuddered – Gwaine and the knights who were watching the scene from the courtyard, the sorcerers on the ramparts, the courtiers massed behind the doors that protected them, even Uther Pendragon deep in the room where he was hiding. The soldiers at the foot of the mountain, who neither saw nor heard anything, also felt their hair stand on their necks.

Lancelot's heart was beating wildly: that magnetic voice, that surging force that was crushing and drawing you at the same time, burning in your veins like a fire – _that_ was the unparalleled, devastating, breathtaking magic of Emrys – and he had not seen it since thirteen years.

The white dragon bawled and flew higher.

\- " _Aithusa!_ " Merlin repeated with authority – and the air blurred around him. " _Eist ri mo ghuth!_ "

A strong wind rose in the forest, swept down the flames and drove away the smoke. For a moment, it was as if time had stopped, as if the entire world was being sucked into a void.

Lancelot fell on one knee, put his arm in front of his face to protect himself. Beside him, Daegal was curled into a ball, whimpering.

Now – it was now.

Merlin gave the signal and all the sorcerers let go at the same time of their grip on the magic dome. The deformed body of the dragon tensed up, its bony wings unfolded, its maw opened...

\- _Aithusa! Tha thu saor an-asgaidh!_ " yelled Merlin, opening wide his arms. " _Tilleadh chun na mara!_ "

A flash of lightning tore the sky, dazzling, then everything turned dark and rain plummeted down violently on the isolated castle and the burning forest.

The wizard's white, drenched cloak was flapping in the icy wind. The rain was trickling down on his angular face, plastering his black curls on his pale forehead, but a broad smile stretched his mouth. Tiny embers were dancing around him, swarming like burning insects.

Lancelot was barely daring to raise his head when Daegal glanced over his sleeve and jumped to his feet immediately, excited.

\- "Dragon gone!" he chirped, pulling on his master's sleeve.

\- "It went home", said Merlin tenderly, hugging the child. "It has finally gone home."

His voice, suddenly, was heavy with fatigue, his breathing ragged. All the blood seemed to have withdrawn from his face. He staggered, caught himself on the railing.

\- "Celot!" Daegal shouted in panic.

The knight rushed to the wizard. In the staircase behind them could already be heard the clanking sound of Gwaine's armor.

\- "Don't tell him..." Merlin panted.

Lancelot nodded, despite the storm in his black eyes.

\- "It was... it was INCREDIBLE! BREATHTAKING!" roared the General, bursting onto the balcony.

He undid his cloak, threw it over his head and ran to them, protecting them from the hammering rain. They maneuvered to shelter under the door, seated Merlin on the stone step. Lancelot kneeled down and began rubbing the young man's hands under Daegal's anxious gaze.

With surprising gentleness, Gwaine leaned forward and pushed aside a black curl on the icy, yet beaded with sweat forehead of the wizard. Then he straightened up, looked at the former knight with concern.

\- "How is he?"

\- "I'm fine," Merlin chuckled. "And I'm right here, thank you. It's nothing, just a bout of dizziness. I'll be fine in a minute."

\- "Hum!" growled Gwaine and Daegal exactly at the same time.

Lancelot laughed.

\- "They are not quite wrong," he said. "There are still a few hours before the last battle, please let us manage here and go get some rest. I don't want you to faint on us when we'll need to your brilliant strategies."

\- "I don't have any strategies left," Merlin said. "Now we can only fight."

\- "So fight we will," said Gwaine fiercely.

Daegal had gone back outside and was perched on the balustrade in spite of the rain, searching where the dragon had disappeared. Down the mountain, Morgan was howling with rage.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

The high yellow flames sizzled, curved and, as the hours passed, diminished to nothing more than glowing embers in the thick black smoke exhaled by the mountain in the torrential rain.

At noon, the three hundred men of the Royal Guard went in order and calm to their designated spots on the ramparts and in the courtyard, while the Nobles who could wield a sword were preparing in the Great Hall, embracing their families in tears and swearing fidelity to the King, loudly beating their chests.

On the forecourt, Merlin pulled Daegal to him.

\- "I'm sorry", he mumbled. "You shouldn't have come with me… I wanted to let you be a child and now..."

\- "Protect Merlin!" the boy replied, tying his arms around his master's waist, frowning.

\- "I'll be fine. Please protect Lancelot and Gwaine during the battle."

\- "Promise! Daegal help!"

Gwaine nodded vigorously. He was standing next to them. He waited for the kid to step back to embrace the frail wizard with the loving brusqueness of a troll.

\- "Stay alive," Merlin rasped, closing his eyes for a moment to hide his emotion.

Gwaine let go of him, took a step back and bowed, punching his fist in his palm with a ferocious smile. Daegal imitated him immediately, throwing back his ruffled ponytail in a shower of drops.

\- "You can count on us. We won't let them pass."

\- "Won't pass!" Daegal chimed in happily.

And he fled into the rain that was pelting the armors, dripping on the roofs, lapping in the courtyard.

Gwaine went down the stairs more dignifiedly after putting on his helmet, but he did not look back either. Merlin watched them go, then he went inside and closed the big doors.

It was the last day.

 _If reinforcements did not come before night, there would be no tomorrow for the people in the Hunting Lodge..._

Down the mountain, Prince Morgan was quivering with impatience as his troops disappeared row after row in the thick smoke with their yellow and black banners.

Atop the mountain, Lancelot was waiting on the ramparts, eyes narrowed, ears outstretched.

When the first ghostly silhouettes appeared in the mutilated forest, through the gray fog, he dropped the first warning:

\- "Two hundred steps!"

The rain was streaming on the resolute faces of the Royal Guards.

\- "One hundred and fifty steps!"

Gwaine raised his arm and the archers got their arrows ready.

\- "One hundred steps!"

The ground shook as the monstrous shape of the battering ram emerged from the mist.

\- "Now!" yelled Gwaine, and from that moment on, hell was released on the mountain.

A cloud of arrows crossed the sky and screams rose on the other side of the ramparts, shields clashed and then, almost immediately, the enemy fired back and the large puddles in the courtyard were tinged with red as wails of pain could be heard inside as well.

The battering ram hit the wide gates, shaking the whole Hunting Lodge.

Inside the Great Hall, the King and the Queen were huddled together, terrified. Mordred, pale, went to Merlin who was listening intensively.

 _BOOM._

 _BOOM._

 _BOOM._

Flaming arrows crashed against the doors, some burst through the stained glass windows and crashed into the floor. Cries of terror rang out as courtiers and servants hurried to the back of the room.

Merlin hurried to extinguish under his sole the few starts of fire, then he returned behind the wide pillar where he had taken shelter. Out of breath, he pressed a hand to his chest, struggling to get rid of the black dots swarming before his eyes. Someone grabbed by his elbow and steadied him. He turned his head and saw it was the fourth prince. Mordred looked absolutely terrified, but he was the only one who had dared come so close to the doors to help the wizard.

\- "Everything's going to be fine," Merlin promised. "They have not broken through the main gates yet."

Outside, the sky was darkened by waves and waves of arrows. Knights were running over the ramparts to dump oil and boulders on the besiegers – they were falling under this curtain of death and joined the other bodies lying on the redden flagstones. The archers would soon be short of projectiles, and the ram kept shaking the palisade regularly, the ladders were more and more difficult to repel, and already corpses of soldiers in black livery were strewing the sentry walk.

They _needed_ to stop the enemy assault enough time to regroup the troops to be ready at the inevitable moment when the gates would rupture. Gwaine, desperate, saw no other way than to send another half-dozen men to their death when Lancelot, who was next to him, suddenly hurled his sword into a wooden pillar. Then he rushed forward before anyone could stop him, ran straight ahead and propelled himself on the ramparts with the help of the blade, picked up the tar skins and stood up.

Two arrows hissed and plunged into his chest. Gwaine screamed, but Lancelot did not fall. Grinning defiantly, he kicked the wooden palisade and threw the bags across the ditch. They burst when they reached the ground, swamping in slime the besiegers and the battering ram.

Before anyone could react, a torch thrown by Gwaine ignited the oil and a high flame swelled in the black smoke, while atrocious cries erupted.

Lancelot had fallen on one knee and sheltered himself behind his arm. Face red, smudged with sweat and black ashes, eyebrows charred, he slipped down the ladders.

Gwaine rushed towards him, but the former knight halted him, signaling that he was okay. He broke the arrows, straightened up and pulled his sword from the pillar. He then joined the last hundred defenders behind the General and they all waited, their hearts beating wild but their features calm and resolute.

 _BOOM._

The silence was so heavy that you could hear the sizzle of embers in the forest that was still burning under the persistent rain.

Even the wounded had gone silent. The gray sky, weighed down by the oily smoke and the horrible smell of scorched flesh, was so low that it could almost have been touched. The breath of the fire was hot and yet they were frozen to the bone by the dampness permeating their clothes.

 _BOOM._

The gates did not give way, but they cracked lugubriously under the assault of the ram. It was only a matter of minutes.

Gwaine drew out his sword and pointed it to the sky.

 _BOOM._

The rain was rapping on the General's helmet and on his steel pauldrons, gorging his scarlet cape with water.

\- "Knights!" he shouted loudly.

They shivered, listening.

\- "This is the last line of defense! WHO'S WITH ME?"

A clamor rose.

\- "We are! We are! WE ARE!"

And then the gates shattered open.

\- "FOR CAMELOT!" shouted Gwaine and, followed by all those who were still standing, he charged to meet the black army that was bursting inside the Hunting Lodge.

Lancelot and Daegal were at his side.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

It felt even more terrible because they could not see anything, just imagine – and for the first time in his life, Merlin realized how much harder it was to have to wait than to lead the men into battle. Every scream or gurgling of pain, every brutal impact against the walls of the Great Hall, every clash of metal that resounded outside seemed to echo in his body.

Mordred's fingers were digging in his arm, so hard that the wizard was sure to get some bruises. But he did not try to break free. The fourth prince was terrified, he needed to cling onto something – and Merlin needed this anchor as well: he had not noticed that he was holding his breath and his ears were sizzling, his vision was growing dark at times, he felt like if he was sinking into the infernal well of his memories.

Some courtiers were as tense as he was, trying to understand the evolution of the battle, but many others were trembling and crying, stifling their sniffles in silk handkerchiefs. Some maids were prostrated on the floor, reciting prayers. Uther Pendragon had not moved from his seat since the beginning of the attack. He was livid and was grinding Ygraine's hand in his. The Queen was standing next to him, her delicate jaw clenched and her eyes red but burning with pride.

The clamors increased. The arrows had stopped, but rain was still pounding on the roof. From time to time, a dull thump shook the wooden walls, making everyone jump, and a scarlet flower bloomed on the stained glass windows. Rales and sounds of combat were coming closer and closer.

\- "They're almost there," Mordred gasped.

He was very pale and perspiration shone on his upper lip. His eerie blue eyes were dilated.

\- "Reinforcements won't arrive in time."

Merlin shook his head and the motion almost made him throw up. He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again and looked at the prince with kindness.

\- "Have faith in our army, Your Highness. General Gwaine will fight to the death to defend us. Trust your brother. He will be there in time – Prince Arthur always keeps his promises."

Mordred wanted to shout "how would you know about it? You hardly know him!" but at that moment a horn sounded outside and the stampede of hundreds of horses climbing the mountain at full gallop made the walls of the Hunting Lodge tremble.

Shouts of victory were heard. A din of metal followed – swords and shields falling noisily on the flagstones.

Everyone had risen in the Great Hall, panting but not daring to say a word, not daring to believe.

Then someone clad in armor climbed the steps four by four outside and fists hammered the doors.

\- "Your Majesty! Freyja is here to save you! Open up, Your Majesty! Open up, Father! It's me, it's your daughter!"

Uther uttered a small squeak and made a gesture for the servants to open at once. Ygraine had fallen back on the royal seat and hidden her face in her hands.

Mordred let go of Merlin's arm and he rushed to the doors. The wizard staggered and almost fell.

A flurry of rain, icy wind, flakes of ashes and tiny, burning golden sparks rushed inside. The princess gave her long silver spear, adorned with a wisp of white horsehair, to one of her generals and took off her helmet, which she dumped into her aide-de-camp's arms. Her chestnut hair cascaded freely over her shoulders as she stepped over the threshold and walked straight to the petrified King at the back of the room.

\- "Freyja is here to save you, Your Majesty," she repeated when she arrived in front of him, kneeling to salute, bringing her hands in front of her. "I came to the rescue as soon as I received the message from my royal brother. Prince Arthur has captured Prince Morgan and the Western Army is currently chasing after fugitives and confiscating weapons."

\- "My child..." Uther Pendragon stammered. "My child... you saved us..."

He leaned over to help her up and was the only one not to see the searching glance the young woman cast around her, nor the way her face lit up when she found Merlin in the crowd.

The wizard was very pale - which was not unusual - but he seemed unscathed. He nodded politely to the princess, then left the room and disappeared into the comings and goings of the soldiers.

Ygraine sighed and Mordred burst into a nervous laugh that he hastily camouflaged in a coughing fit. In between the sudden relief washing over him and the amazement in discovering that his sister _was_ in love with the weak scholar their parents wanted her to marry, he felt a little dizzy.

The Queen and Gwaine had ordered everyone to follow the instructions of the man from the beginning of the siege. The King was thinking of ennobling this obscure guild leader. And Mordred, who had always been quite shy and aloof, could not help but wanting to be friend with Sir Merlin – and that since the very first minute he had spoken to the man. It was crazy. _What would he discover next? That Arthur intended to ascend the throne?_ The world was turning upside down, lately.

A long shudder shook him and he gratefully accepted the blanket someone was draping on his shoulders, the cup of tea pushed into his hands.

 _The nightmare was over. They were saved. It was all that mattered._

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up: AFTERMATH_**


	13. Aftermath

**AFTERMATH**

* * *

The rain had stopped and a ray of sunshine was piercing through the smoke-laden sky. The knights were carrying the wounded to the infirmary set in a wing of the Hunting Lodge usually housing guests.

Gwaine was nowhere in sight, and neither were Lancelot or Daegal. Merlin's anguish was strangling him like a cold, cold hand and he was having more and more trouble breathing. He stopped, leaned on a broken cart, struggling not to faint. Someone stopped to ask him if he was hurt and he shook his head, asked where the General was and was pointed to the wide, broken doors. Gathering his strength, the wizard assured that he did not need help and started walking again.

Daegal suddenly popped in front of him and he jumped, almost lost his balance and found his arms full of a happy kid.

\- "There you are! I couldn't find you... "Merlin gasped. Then he anxiously checked the child for any injuries.

Daegal's clothes were covered in blood, but it was not his. His youthful face was splashed with red dots, his ponytail messy, his boots muddy, and he was grinning like if he had been sent to play in a field of daisies for two hours.

Merlin wiped the boy's cheeks with his sleeve, stroked his head and hugged him again, overwhelmed by relief.

\- "Daegal fight: _ping_ , _pang_ , _zoop_ , _baf_!" the kid chirped proudly, escaping the embrace to swirl around gracefully, each of his childish onomatopoeia accompanied by the demonstration of a precise and deadly gesture. "Big Fellow fight - _chk_ , _shash_ , _bladoom_! Everyone down!"

\- "And Lancelot?" asked Merlin.

Daegal opened wide excited eyes.

\- "Flying _wooooow_ and _frrrrrff_ fire!" he described. Then he grimaced. "After, arrows - and _ouch_."

The wizard blanched. He had to lean on the boy's shoulder.

\- "Where is he?"

Daegal led him complacently to the makeshift hospital, where they found the former knight trying to convince the nurse who was bandaging his chest to let him leave.

\- "I've got work to do and I..."

\- "Won't go anywhere", Merlin cut in sternly. "Lancelot, I forbid you to even _think_ of doing anything but resting, until I or the doctor tell you otherwise. How is he?"

He turned his imperative blue gaze to the young nurse who was bobbing his head vigorously and who suddenly lost his composure when he realized the idol of the Hunting Lodge was addressing him.

\- "He m-m-must rest in b-b-bed for a few days at least. His armor p-p-protected him, the wounds are not very d-d-deep and his wet clothes have prevented t-t-too much bleeding, but he is likely to have a f-f-fever if he gets agitated."

\- "I understand," said Merlin. "We will do things in accordance with the army surgeon's orders, of course."

Something in his eyes prevented Lancelot from protesting and the knight, sighing, laid down on his bed, and let Daegal cover him with a blanket. He grabbed Merlin's hand before the wizard turned away, though.

\- "You have to take care of yourself even if I'm not here", he pleaded. "You know how sick you get when you abuse your strength and after what you did this morning..."

The young nurse was focused on the strips of cloth he was rolling and piling on a tray with ointments and medicine, but it was clear that he was not losing a word of the conversation.

Merlin sighed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, wrapped in his thin, pale hands the big callous hand of his most faithful friend.

\- "Don't worry about me," Lancelot insisted. "I'm fine, a small wound like this is nothing. Go see if Arthur is back, listen to Gwaine's reports and then rest, eh? And put on your coat. Gaius _will_ kill me if you come back in worse condition than when you left..."

\- "Even Gaius can't blame Prince Morgan's rebellion on you!" Merlin objected with a strangled laughter.

His blue eyes misted up.

\- "Daegal, take him away," the former knight ordered, turning to the little bodyguard, only to discover that the boy had curled into a ball at the end of his bed and was sound asleep. "Ah, one cannot rely on anyone in this world!"

\- "Well, it must be written somewhere that you shouldn't be listened to today," replied the wizard. "Rest, I'll make sure you're carried to my chambers as soon as we're properly settled."

\- "No way!" protested Lancelot. "I'm good here where no one will exhaust themselves watching over me. I'm going to sleep, I'm already sleeping, see? Now go get some rest, you can barely stand up."

He closed his eyes, leaned back on his pillow and pretended to snore. Merlin chuckled weakly. He gently put the injured man's hand back under the blanket, then got up.

\- "Very well then. I'll come back later. Don't wake up Daegal, he's still growing up, he needs his sleep."

He left quickly, to hide the emotion overwhelming him.

 _He had been scared. So terribly scared of losing them that he was not quite sure yet that the nightmare was over..._

At the main gates, he finally found Gwaine and they shared a long look in which there was a lot of things, before the gallop of a horse made them turn their heads.

Arthur jumped from his saddle and ran to them, anxiety fighting relief on his exhausted face.

\- "Your Highness", said the General, bowing, while Merlin, his throat suddenly tight, could only stare at the prince.

The young man grabbed their arms and feverishly checked them for injuries.

\- "You're alive!" he finally gasped.

And he staggered. They caught him immediately, alarmed.

\- "It's nothing", he assured with a weak smile. "I hastened to come back and I did not sleep or eat. I guess I was very worried and the joy of seeing you two safe and sound almost made me swoon like a young lady. This is totally unworthy of a knight and I hope you'll keep that for yourself: I wouldn't want my troops suddenly thinking they're led by my sister! Well, depending on which sister, maybe they would not lose at change."

He tried to laugh, but could not, and they did not even try to pretend they found the joke funny.

\- "How many losses?" he then whispered.

\- "Out of three hundred men... only fifty were still standing when Princess Freyja's horn sounded," Gwaine rasped. "If she had not come..."

A retrospective shudder shook the Prince's shoulders.

\- "But she came," Merlin said softly. "And your reinforcements are here a day in advance. You made it, Your Highness, you saved the King and Camelot."

Arthur nodded weakly. There were streaks of blood and plastered mud on his neck and hands. His cloak was torn, his hair filthy and his features were drawn with fatigue.

\- "Go", said the wizard. "His Majesty is waiting for you. We will take care of everything that needs to be done now."

Gwaine said so too. The prince hesitated, then raised his head.

-"The men who fought here are heroes," he said firmly. "I will make sure this is acknowledged, that they are rewarded, but I won't allow the soldiers who have simply followed Prince Morgan's orders to suffer the same fate as those of thirteen years ago."

The two men nodded gravely and he quickly squeezed their hands before striding towards the Great Hall, hurriedly wiping away the moisture in his blue eyes.

Merlin massaged his fingers with a slight grimace of pain, while Gwaine laughed.

\- "He really is a bear," he said, amused. "The most honest, bravest and sincerest bear ever."

\- "And that's probably the last time you can afford to say something like this out loud," said the wizard. "These last days were awful, but at least one good thing will come out of it - nothing will stop Arthur anymore."

Merlin was right. Uther Pendragon, very shaken by these events, was overwhelmed with emotion when he saw his son kneel with the same humility as usual and he hurried to help him up. With trembling hands, he took the military seal which was given back to him and tossed it in the box a servant was presenting him. Then both Queen and King fussed about the prince's wounds and his state of fatigue. Arthur, in a daze, wondered if that was how you felt when you were loved by your father...

There was much to do, however, and he politely took his leave as soon as he could, despite their majesties' objections. It would have been too unfair for him to rest when Gwaine was just as exhausted as he was and would certainly soon be assigned the mission of going back to the capital.

Once bathed and changed, his wounds patched up, the prince went to help out and found that Freyja had taken matters into her own hands. Night had fallen and braziers were lighting up the Hunting Lodge, knights were patrolling the forest and tents had been set up at the foot of Mount _Tintagel_ for Denaria's Army. The princess had sent Gwaine to sleep for a few hours, and she had settled in his place in the headquarters. She was looking at the many reports that needed to be brought to the King by the next morning and she made herself very clear: she had no desire to be assisted by someone who was half asleep on his feet.

Her sister had led many military campaigns and she knew exactly what had to be done, ordered, organized. And when she was clad in armor, it was even harder to disobey her than usual.

Arthur did not insist further. He only made sure Merlin had been settled in the guest quarters, then, reassured, he retired to his apartments, where he slept like a log until the next day. When he woke up, he was starving and he devoured the sumptuous breakfast his mother had prepared for him. Then he went back to headquarters, where Freyja handed him the reports. He studied them quickly before going with her to the Great Hall.

Gwaine was already there and they arrived just in time to hear Uther Pendragon order him to return to Camelot and clarify the situation there. The General saluted and strode out. But as he passed by the fifth prince who was waiting to be introduced, he muttered a short sentence which Arthur almost did not hear.

 _"I'll leave Merlin in your care."_

It was useless to say so, but Arthur had no trouble understanding why Gwaine had felt the need to mention it anyway.

For the next three days, however, the prince never had the opportunity to visit the wizard. He only saw him from afar, but was surprised to hear multiple people – nobles, knights, servants - talk about him in terms that suggested Merlin, during Arthur's absence, had played a role not quite limited to crafting cunning strategies, hidden away in a military tent.

They even said absurd things, such as Merlin making a dragon vanished with a snap of his finger or summoning a storm...

The prince told the princess about it one evening while they reviewed reports. _What kind of man could inspire such devotion in such a short time? He had only seen someone like this once in his life and..._

Freyja changed the subject of the conversation before her brother would go down that slope. There was so much to ponder and decide before the royal family could return to the capital, starting with the transport of the most important prisoner, so Arthur quickly forget about it.

The brother and sister kept silence for a moment, thinking back to the horrible confrontation between their father and the third prince, earlier in the day. Morgan's despair and hatred were almost palpable but Uther Pendragon had done nothing to appease them. Carried away by his own consternation, he had had very harsh words.

 _"When a chess piece becomes useless, my son, you have to give it up. Why then feeling sorry for? You have chosen, played and lost, you can't expect any pity on my part."_

Arthur still felt nauseated. He had always known that his father was selfish and cruel, but he had never realized how much his own blood counted little for the king. There was no hope that one day Uther Pendragon would regret having condemned Prince Leon to death without even the slightest trial. Merlin was right: to get the case to be brought back to light and retried, they would probably need to be as ruthless as the king...

Chasing off these painful thoughts, the prince went back to work. Freyja finished writing her report on the involvement of the Southern Army and handed it to her brother before getting up and taking a few steps to stretch, yawning widely.

He smiled.

\- " I think we can stop here for tonight," he said. "We cannot possibly continue organizing the return of the King without knowing what really happened in Camelot, and no message from General Gwaine will reach us before tomorrow morning. Go get some rest, little sister."

She looked at him suspiciously.

\- "You do not intend to spend the night here, I hope?"

He shook his head, amused. He picked up the documents scattered around him and stood up, suppressing a yawn as well.

\- "I'm going to study these in my chambers, but then I'll get some sleep too", he replied, thinking that maybe he still had time to go to the infirmary before the doctors made their rotation, that it was also necessary to check on the progress of the repairs of the ramparts and that he had not yet supervised the...

\- "You don't have to carry the whole world on your shoulders, Arthur," Freyja said softly. "Not yet, at least. All these things can wait for tomorrow."

He laughed lightly – _since when had his little sister been so wise?_ \- and leaned over to blow out the candles.

They separated in the courtyard when one of the Queen's maids came to pick up Freyja whom her mother was asking for. Arthur made his way to the infirmary and, after listening to the report from the military surgeons, he spent a moment wandering between the beds, shaking hands with the wounded and whispering words of encouragement to the dying. He was shocked to find Merlin's butler among the soldiers. Lancelot did not look well at all, but the young nurse whom the prince grilled affirmed that the man was already on the road to recovery. The fever had only started after supper because Lancelot had been very upset and it would surely break before dawn. The nurse urged his royal interlocutor not to tell any of this to the wizard who had apparently spent all day at the bedside of his servant despite common sense.

\- "There are drafts here, and he was coughing a lot. He absolutely refuses to let himself be examined, but we're all worried about him, Your Highness. He keeps telling us that his illness is not contagious, but he does not see that we're afraid _he_ might catch some bad infection in this place... the siege left him very weak and his bodyguard – the one who speaks like a child but fights like a murderer - said he had not eaten anything today. Sir Lancelot was not happy, oh no. Not happy at all. That's why he absolutely wanted to get up. He says that in his absence, only General Gwaine or you, Your Highness, could possibly make Sir Merlin listen to reason. But the General is not here and no one has dared to bother you with this..."

Arthur, vaguely irritated at himself for not wondering earlier why his advisor had not come yet to meddle with all that had to be done after the battle, promised that he would make Merlin remember he was human too.

Everything was dark, however, in the wizard's chambers, when the prince reached that wing of the Hunting Lodge. He postponed his moral lesson to the next day and returned to his own quarters.

He had just finished re-reading Freyja's report regarding the message received by pigeon and was preparing to go to bed, preoccupied by a bizarre question - _how had Merlin known_ Isulfor Pass _would be traversable for the Princess' cavalry when she herself explained that she would never have had the idea of taking this path other than on foot, like all travelers coming from the South? How could have Merlin described so precisely the road to follow in these dangerous gorges? The prince had not reacted when the idea had been suggested, because Emrys had once told him that it was possible, but..._ \- when a voice suddenly called outside.

Young and frightened, desperate, it was pleading:

\- "Bear! Bear! Mama Bear!"

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up_** ** _: REVEAL_**


	14. Reveal

**REVEAL**

* * *

Arthur did not hesitate for a moment. Forgetting fatigue and official reports, he put on his shoes and rushed out.

\- "What's the matter?" he asked briskly.

Daegal, who was in muddy socks, his ponytail more tousled than ever and his eyes bulging, grabbed the prince by the sleeve and dragged him under the wooden arches to the guest wing.

\- "Hurry, Mama Bear!" He repeated. "Merlin!"

They ran regardless of the etiquette or the curious glances the sentries were giving at them – it would have been difficult to determine which one was the most anxious to get there – and burst into the room through the doors that had remained wide open.

\- "Merlin!"

Arthur felt his heart leap when he saw the young man lying unconscious on the floor in the light of the single candle. He knelt quickly and stifled an exclamation when he found there was blood on the wizard's chin and in the crumpled handkerchief he still held in his hand: he must have gone to bed then, later, gotten up as he didn't feel well and must have collapsed during a particularly violent coughing fit.

Despite his thick nightwear, Merlin felt icy. He was extremely pale, his breathing was coming in ragged, and his features, drawn by exhaustion, were terribly hollowed out by the candlelight. Arthur collected him in his arms and put him on the bed, covering him with a thick bear skin, then he took a step toward the door, intending on sending a servant to fetch one of the royal doctors, but Daegal blocked him.

\- "Bear help!" begged the child. "No more medecine, Merlin cough and cough and fall – not princess, don't want, Celot hurt... Mama Bear – please! Save Merlin!"

Both moved by the faith the kid was placing in him and slightly appalled at the thought of Daegal barging in the apartments of the Queen if the wizard had not had the presence of mind to forbid him from fetching Freyja before fainting, the prince patted the boy's head. Daegal, who never let anyone touch him usually, snuggled under the hand. His big round eyes were full of distress.

\- "I'll be right back," Arthur said kindly. "I won't tell the princess, promise. Light on a few lamps and fill a bowl with water, try putting a wet cloth on his temples, will you? It may bring him back to his senses."

The little bodyguard nodded, comforted at the thought of having something to do. The prince went out, hailed the first soldier he saw and ordered him to promptly go get one of the royal doctors for Sir Merlin. He then went back inside, brought a brazier closer to the bed, then sat down and began rubbing the wizard's hands, as he had seen Lancelot do when his master was feeling sick.

The doctor soon arrived and Arthur stepped back with discretion, but stood a short distance away with Daegal, watching carefully. The old man spent a long time examining his patient, blocking their sight, then he carefully pulled the covers back in place, shook his head with an indecipherable expression, and turned to the prince.

\- "Has he exhausted himself because of the siege? Did he catch a cold?" hastily asked Arthur. "He has some sort of a chronic illness, but Daegal said he has no more medication. Is it a relapse? What can we do?"

Instead of answering, the doctor looked at the little bodyguard who was staring anxiously at him.

\- "Come here, child," he said compassionately, patting the edge of the mattress. "Stay close to him, that's what he needs most at the moment. I'm going to make a decoction of plants and I'll have it brought here, you'll make him drink it when he wakes up. It'll help him breathe a little better. If he has a fever later in the night, come tell me, I'll be in the infirmary."

Daegal nodded very seriously. The old man put away his instruments, his magic herbs and his ointments, stood up heavily and took a few steps before stopping and turning to contemplate the patient again. Arthur, who had blanched, stepped closer to him.

\- "You're not mentioning anything about a cure. Is he..." His voice hitched in spite of himself and he glanced at the bed. "Is he... dying?"

The doctor grunted, a little like Gaius often did. He was almost as old as the physician and could probably be just as ferocious, even though years of service to the royal family had taught him to express himself more delicately. His gray hair was gathered in a respectable bun and his beard was well combed, but one could guess at his crumpled clothes that he had left the infirmary in a hurry at the prince's calling, simply removing his blood-stained apron but without taking the time to change. He had volunteered to treat the wounded although his status could have dispensed him from it and had spared no effort.

\- " _Dying_!" he grumbled. "It's a miracle that this man is even _alive_!"

Strangely, he seemed crossed with Arthur, as if the prince had something to do with Merlin's condition.

\- "The simple journey to Mount _Tintagel_ could have killed him, let alone the siege! When I think he coordinated all our defenses during three days, confronted this dragon on his own – what a fool! But the strength of character this shows... it's no wonder the soldiers worship him."

\- "What do you mean?" mumbled the prince.

The doctor snorted ferociously. He seemed about to reply with irony, but something in the tone of his interlocutor made him realize the question was genuine. He raised an eyebrow, surprised, and softened up.

\- "I thought Your Highness was aware of his condition..." he muttered. He hesitated, then continued, understanding at the blue eyes intensely fixed on him that it would be useless to evoke medical confidentiality: "This man is not _sick_ , strictly speaking, but he suffered severe burns. This caused irreparable damage to his internal organs, particularly his lungs, which were irretrievably affected, and if it was not for deep magical roots in him, he could not have survived. His weak resistance to the cold comes from there too: he must feel dearly all changes in temperature."

Carried away by his subject, he dragged Arthur to the bed, gently lifted the black curls on the patient's neck.

\- "I don't know what happened to him, but he was disfigured at some time. A sorcerer who is extremely qualified in the arts of medicine mended his bones and sew new skin on his face: see, here, under his ear, remains a thin scar. There are others, much more frightful, on the rest of his body. Whoever he may be, whether he was caught in a fire before or after the terrible fall that shattered all his bones, whether it was fair retribution for his actions or an accident, in any case he went through terrible torments."

He gazed sadly at Daegal, who was anxiously cooing, his master's hand pressed against his cheek, and stifled a sigh. The doctor then pulled the prince to the other side of the room.

\- "Even though he may seem to be doing pretty well, it's impossible for him to ever fully recover," he added, lowering his voice. "One of those fevers that are the result of the terrible hardships endured by his poor body will eventually take his life, unless one of the vital organs fails before that because the last thrills of magic that keep them still in function are finally gone."

\- "What can we do?" Arthur stammered, shocked.

\- "Nothing, except for sparing him fatigue, anxiety, anything that could put stress on his heart," said the royal doctor, with a grave air. He scratched his beard. "But I suppose it won't be possible. This man is Your Highness's adviser, isn't he? I guess he had the opportunity to tell you about his condition. If he did not, he probably had good reason to remain silent. From what I've seen of him during these past days, he's a man of integrity, not a bandit who conceals his identity."

The prince was ashen.

\- "I would never have agreed if I'd have known what it might cost him," he whispered, staring at the unconscious wizard, not realizing that his well-kept secret was apparently perfectly obvious to the old man.

The doctor looked at him with compassion.

\- "Sometimes", he said quietly, "having a goal is the only thing that can keep a man alive. Your Highness, in giving Merlin something to work and hope for, probably allowed him to extend his existence."

He picked up his medicine box, said goodbye, then went out after briefly leaning again over his patient and advising Daegal to prevent him from lying on his back, which would have hinder his breathing.

Arthur's gaze stayed on the close doors, still dazed by what he had just learned, then he walked to the bed, sat on the edge of the mattress and tucked again the furs around the patient. Daegal curled up at his feet and rested his chin on his folded arms, his eyes firmly attached on his master.

They spent the night watching the slightest sigh of the patient, the slightest twitch on his face. From time to time, they felt his hands, worried to find them still icy and filled the little bronze warmer with new embers. His skinny chest was sometimes shaken by a frightful cough that left him wheezing. They then moistened her discolored lips, patted his bony back, but dared not give him a drink.

Toward the darkest hour, when the stars had faded and the cold became more intense outside, Merlin started running a fever. Sweat pearled on his pale brow, red patches covered his neck, he moaned pitifully. Daegal whimpered softly, and the prince gently squeezed his shoulder, his heart tightening at such poignant distress. He wondered if it would be better if he went to get the doctor himself or if he should send over the young bodyguard when Merlin began to mumble. Arthur, hoping he could somehow relieve him, leaned over him.

\- "How do you feel? Do you need something?"

The wizard was not really conscious. His eyelashes were fluttering weakly, his lips parted, but he did not seem to understand what was being said to him.

\- "Father..." he pleaded with a sob. "General... don't let go..."

Arthur tilted his head aside, puzzled. These involuntary confessions were consistent with what he had observed: Merlin must have been a soldier sometime. _Was he from a military family? Could it be that, perhaps... a fire, many wounds... could it be that he was in fact one of the officers sent to fight against Caerleon in the Northern Mountains? Had he known Emrys of Ealdor? Maybe he had been with him at his last moments…_

Daegal grabbed his master's hand, squeezed it, and it seemed to soothe the patient a little.

Outside, the first sounds of morning, birds chirping, servants' sleep-slurred voices, could now be heard. The sky was clearing and a greyish light was seeping through the shutters. A candle burned out and a thick smell of wax rose in the room with a thin stream of smoke.

Merlin started tossing uncomfortably. He was shivering but pushing away his blankets. His hands were clammy, his body cold, his cheeks burning. The prince sent Daegal fetch the royal doctor and the little bodyguard disappeared like an arrow after one last look at his master.

\- "Freyja... Freyja..."

Arthur ran a hand over his tired face and let go of a nervous laugh.

\- "The princess is not here," he said. "Remember, you were the one who ordered Daegal to keep her away. Are you thirsty? The doctor had a potion brought here for you, you might feel better if you drink it."

He filled a cup at the kettle that was waiting near the fire, poured in it the prepared medicine and moved closer, slipping his arm under the patient's back to help him straighten up, leaning him against his chest.

\- "Everything will be fine", he said softly, his voice a little hoarse because he wanted to convince himself of it too. He must have been even more exhausted than he had thought, to be so sentimental... "You'll be up and about very soon. Don't let me down, I need your advice, you know."

Merlin's blue eyes opened and his fever-glassed gaze wandered on the face close to his. A weak smile floated on his parched lips.

\- "Arthur... he whispered. "Don't be afraid…"

The prince froze, the cup halfway through the air, trying to understand why his heart was suddenly beating wildly.

The royal doctor had said the wizard had been disfigured in a fire and bore marks of many wounds.

 _"Arthur..."_

This man had held a siege with the science of a war veteran and earned the respect of valiant knights in just a few days. This man had given instructions for an army to cross the mountains through a passage that only a handful of people knew. This man had drawn the sword from the prince's sheath with as much ease as a brother in arms.

 _"Don't be afraid…"_

This man was rubbing the seam of his sleeve when he was thinking and he could talk to dragons – everyone had said so. This man had Gwaine's loyalty and Freyja's love. This man had chosen him to be his King but was nicknaming him 'Bear'.

 _Merlin... Merlin was..._

The cup fell to the ground and broke into several pieces. Trembling, the prince shifted to better look at the head resting against his shoulder. He feverishly pulled up the patient's sleeve, examined the pale skin, the bluish veins.

The cobalt eyes fluttered, vanquished by fever and exhaustion. They closed and the smile faded on the emaciated face of the wizard.

 _That face that was not the one he remembered._

 _Those blue eyes that were the ones he should never have forgotten._

Something painfully churned in Arthur's stomach.

 _Was it possible? Had he really... had he really not been able to see...? How had he not_ felt _it?_

Eyelids tightly shut to fight against the sudden dizziness, he tried to gather his frayed thoughts. They did _not_ look like each other. The scar was not on Merlin's arm, nor the magic mark on his neck. One was healthy and always hot - the other was afraid of the cold and often sick.

 _It was impossible._

Both of them were extremely smart. Their faith in him was unshakeable. They were ready to give their lives for a just cause, never tired of defending the weak. People gathered spontaneously around them, attracted by their passion, their charisma, their inexhaustible courage.

 _It was too much of a coincidence to be ignored..._

He winced, straightened up, ran a clammy hand over his forehead, ruffling his blond hair. He carefully put the young man down, covered him with the blanket, then stumbled off the bed, as if he was running away.

 _Oh, if he was wrong, he would go mad._

 _"Arthur... don't be afraid..."_

He returned to the bed, staggering, let himself sink again on the edge of the mattress. He had not realized that he had bitten his lips to blood, dug his nails into his palms. His jaws ached, a swarm of black dots obscured his vision from time to time, his chest was so oppressed that he felt suffocated, barely able to take a breath in from time to time with the ridiculous sound of a strangled mice.

 _Merlin... if Merlin was..._

He had found an excuse for all the hints that could have betrayed him. He had patiently endured very single sarcastic jab against the role he had assumed, had been accused, insulted, jailed. Never once had he mentioned the past. He had let people and situations paint him in dark and gloomy colors. He had not made a move to pull Arthur from the nightmare he had been living in for thirteen years.

Emrys would never have done that. He had never had a secret for his best friend. The captain of Ealdor would have fought against anyone questioning his honor and he could have defeated an army on his own. He was worse than a grandmother when it came to rambling about old embarrassing childhood memories and when he was laughing, it was as if the world was brightening, no one could resist his good mood. If he had survived, he would have come back, one way or another, to save Arthur.

 _"I chose you, Your Highness."_

The words echoed in the buzzing ears of the prince, mingling with the words said by the royal physician. The flames roaring in the dark Northern Mountains danced before him.

 _The wizard of Essetir was not the Captain of Ealdor._

 _But Emrys, maybe, was Merlin..._

Overwhelmed, Arthur stifled a broken sob.

 _Why? Why did not you tell me? Who made you suffer so much?_ _Is it really you?_

He breathed in deeply, forced his mad heart to calm down at the cost of a terrible effort, wiped the tears burning down his cheeks.

"Maybe" was not enough.

He would not tell anyone about his doubts – not even to Gwaine or Freyja. First of all, he would do a test. He knew exactly which – he would have to wait till they got back to Camelot for that. Then, when he would be certain, he would confront his friend. In the meantime, the most important thing was to watch over the patient and not agitate him, not cause him any more stress. Arthur could do that: he had endured harder tortures.

 _Had he really?_

He prayed that his eyes would not betray him, that his words would not arouse suspicion. He prayed with all his might for this foolish hope not to be just a chimera born from that long night. But he did not pray for the diagnosis of the old doctor to change: his disarrayed mind had buried very deep the thought that he might lose again the one he thought he had finally gotten back...

When Daegal came back with the royal doctor, Arthur had regained control of himself and he was able to work with them to try relieving the patient.

In the morning, when one of the knights came to bring him the night's reports (after searching for him everywhere in the Hunting Lodge and almost triggering a panic) and shyly suggested he should get some rest (he must have looked awful), he almost refused, then remembered he could not possibly escape forever his princely duties.

Daegal was fast asleep, curled up like a cat at the end of the bed, and the doctor was snoring in an armchair, his neck thrown back and his mouth ajar. The prince shook awake the old man, explained that he had to go to the king, promised to return later in the day, and advised him not to allow the princess in if by chance she came to the wizard's chambers.

The doctor raised an eyebrow, but he nodded and, after Arthur's departure, he got up, called out a servant who was carrying water and washed briefly before examining his patient again. Daegal opened an eye, yawned and put his chin on the pillow he had hugged all night. His face silently interrogated the physician.

\- "He's much better," said the doctor, looking satisfied. "He should wake up in a few hours. Of course, he'll need a lot of rest, but as long as not too much strain is put on his body in the next few days, he should recover pretty much. And by too much strain, I do not mean leading the defenses of a siege, fighting a dragon or attending banquets late into the night: he should not receive visitors until tomorrow and he's not allowed to get up until he's able to eat - and keep in - at least a bowl of porridge."

He smoothed his beard, looked around, searching what he could have forgotten.

\- "No music, no political discussions, even lying down, and of course, he must be spared any alarming news. Hmm. If he can concentrate enough to read, he must not push his limits either. If he starts to blink, you take back the book. Do you understand me, little Daegal?"

The young bodyguard nodded vigorously.

\- "I'm going back to the infirmary, they need me there. The number of doctors the Court brings for the Spring Hunt is not planned for a military campaign. I'll let you watch him. Remember: no visitors."

He chuckled.

\- "Well, you can let the prince in, though. I don't think anything could keep him out of this room, anyway."

He fluffed his collar and his wide sleeves, brushed his robes, wetted his fingers and smoothed his gray hair, making sure his bun was well in place. Then he gathered his things and went to the door. But before he could step out, Arthur barged in.

\- "The King has ordered us to return to Camelot tomorrow," he announced, out of breath. His worried blue eyes glanced anxiously at the back of the room. "How is he? Has he regained consciousness, already? Will he be strong enough to make the trip?"

The doctor frowned and also turned to the bed. He fiddled again with his beard, then let out a deep sigh, pushed the prince out, put his medicine box on the terrace and closed the door behind him.

The weather was fine and the spring light dazzling. A delicate fragrance of flowers was floating in the fresh air, contrasting with the blackened scars left on the garden by the battle.

\- "I guess we don't have a choice," said the doctor. "He should travel at the tail of the convoy, so that he can make halts regularly. I will come to check on him as often as possible. We'll put in the same wagon Sir Lancelot – the wounded knight who keeps trying to run away from the infirmary. With some luck, they might be able to keep each other quiet and resting."

Arthur nodded.

\- "I'll give orders to have one of the best carts ready for him. What else do you need? Just ask."

The old man chuckled.

\- "Listening to Your Highness, one would think you're worried about a friend! Sir Merlin is happy to be at your service."

The prince cleared his throat.

\- "He's the guest of the King!" he protested, picking up the medicine box to give himself some countenance. "And his strategies in defending the Hunting Lodge have saved many lives. The Queen herself ordered for him to be treated with all respect."

\- "Of course", said the royal doctor quietly. He waved to invite the young man to walk with him, then tucked his hands in his wide sleeves. "Of course."

And he did not say anything else.

On the other side of the courtyard, hidden by a plum tree in blossom, Princess Freyja stood very straight in her blue silk dress. The sun was shining on the pearl on her forehead, playing in her voluptuous chestnut mane. Her fingers were fidgeting a silver bracelet which had once been an engagement gift. Her fine dark eyebrows were arched with determination, her lips were tight, her delicate face pale.

Her mother had just confirmed that her father intended to marry her with the leader of the _Alliance of the East River_. If Merlin agreed - _he was strongly advised not to refuse_ \- their wedding would be announced at the end of summer, during the birthday banquet of the king.

Freyja was determined to take back the happiness that had once been stolen from her, even if she had to disappoint Arthur or to overthrow the reluctance of the man who no longer considered himself Emrys.

But as hope throbbed alive anew in her heart, so close, she was trembling that it would be stolen again: if anyone found out the truth, if Uther Pendragon found out who the wizard really was, he would have no mercy.

* * *

 _ **TBC**_

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up_** ** _: PANTHER_**


	15. Panther

**PANTHER**

* * *

When the wizard finally opened his eyes, he was greeted by a joyful shout ("Merlin!") and a no less happy but more reasonably quiet "You're awake!".

Two blurry faces leaned over him, then became Daegal and Lancelot. He smiled weakly at them and they heaved a big sigh of relief together. They piled up pillows behind his back and helped him sit, draped a blanket over his shoulders, gave him some water to drink and told him what had happened since he had lost consciousness, talking all at once.

The room was filled with pink and golden light. The windows were open and dust particles were dancing gracefully in a ray of sunshine. On the floor were scattered some plum blossoms, like fragile white butterflies. The whole Hunting Lodge was buzzing with activity around them, preparing to return to Camelot.

\- ... and Gwaine's message also mentioned that Baron Agravaine has escaped from prison", Lancelot concluded, while setting a tray with a steaming bowl on the young man's lap. "I hope they'll catch him again soon."

Merlin, who had been coughing hard because of the strain of sitting up, wiped his mouth and tucked his handkerchief back in his sleeve before the knight could see if it was stained with blood. He glanced at the porridge and pushed it towards Daegal. But the little bodyguard, sitting cross-legged on the bed, shook his head vigorously and, with a pout, made his master understand that he had to eat to get better.

\- "The doctor promised him you'd be out of the woods when you'd have an appetite", said Lancelot, chuckling at the miffed look of the wizard. "His Highness also expects a report from Daegal on this subject. The fifth prince stayed all night long by your side. He ordered a detachment of soldiers to watch over you during the journey back. We don't need to hurry to leave, we can proceed according to your health."

\- "I don't need any special treatment," Merlin grunted. "Arthur must not..." He paused, paled, and straightened up: "All night long?"

The former knight, who immediately understood his concern, gently pushed him back against his pillows.

\- "Even if you did ramble in your sleep, you must not have said anything special," he reassured him. "His Highness was acting the same today. He's only worried about you - and well, that's to be expected, after all that happened in the past days..."

Merlin kept frowning for a long time. He forced himself to swallow a few spoonfuls of porridge to make Daegal happy, then demanded his clothes, claimed he felt good enough to get up but went back to sleep before he had won that battle.

When he awoke again, the royal doctor was taking his pulse. Although Merlin protested he was not worthy of such honor, the old man categorically refused to stop caring for him and warned him severely that he would not ask him questions about his condition but still would monitor him throughout the trip back. Daegal was finally given permission to help his master get dressed. The wizard was then supported to his cart, in which his luggage had already been loaded. He was bundled in half a dozen furs with Lancelot, whose embarrassment was equally royally ignored and, after that, they took the winding path down the mountain, leaving behind the Hunting Lodge.

Merlin would never remember the return to Camelot. If his fever remained light, on the other hand it kept him in and out of consciousness during the majority of the trip and thus spared him the effort of pretending he was not inconvenienced by the jolts of the road. Lost in a fog, he dreamed of Freyja leaning over him, of being back in the house of the Earl of Ealdor when he was a child, of his mother kissing his forehead gently... but every time he opened his eyes, he only saw the padded ceiling of the cart or the gruff face of the old doctor. He sometimes heard voices chatting outside as the uncomfortable swing of the wagon stopped and the vague thought that Arthur was worried about him gripped him, he would mumble he was fine. When his mind would clear a little, he would try to lift himself on his elbows, want to breathe some fresh air, ask to take a few steps... but he did not have the strength for that and Lancelot reminded him gently, while propping him up on the pillows and opening the curtains so the wizard could see the cultivated fields, the trees' green foliage gently ruffled by the wind, the shining river. Horses passed by the chariot, caparisoned with gold and leather, but their riders no longer had the same cheerfulness as when they had been going to the Hunting Lodge, and at night no music rose to the stars.

At last the high white-stoned walls stood before them and the trumpets sounded, the banners were deployed, Gwaine and the army saluted Uther Pendragon in a clatter of steel and the ministers and courtiers assembled to greet the King bowed deep.

They went through the Main Gates behind the royal cortege but turned in the familiar alley crowded with the market stalls. The hooves of the horse lapped on the paving stones to the porch of the house on _Caltrop Street_ and Gwen, Perceval who was still hobbling because of his wounds and Gaius came out to welcome them.

A week later, Merlin was well enough to sit on the terrace again, a book on his knees, with an elegantly scented tea served beside him on the small round table.

\- "Incredible strength of character," said the royal doctor who had come to see how his patient was doing, smoothing his long beard as he watched the wizard from the other side of the inner courtyard. "Anyone else would still be bedridden."

\- " _Harrumph_. It's easy when the flame shines bright and high to forget that the candle is being inexorably consumed", grouched Gaius.

\- "The patient's will is sovereign in a case like his... I will have to inform His Highness that he can again have visitors", said the old man, throwing a glance at his colleague who was ruminating with annoyance. "The fifth prince has been waiting for days for Sir Merlin's condition to improve enough so that an emotional shock would not be dangerous."

He paused, still intrigued by the strange request the fifth son of the King had submitted to them.

 _"Could he stand a surprise? I would proceed cautiously. It's just a matter of saying something to him - something... maybe not quite happy, but nothing that would cause him extra fatigue anyway. Something that I hope will relieve him from some of his burden."_

Gaius's face darkened.

\- "If it's that I think it is... it may be very beneficial... but perhaps too much to bear. The last time one of them found out who..."

He did not finish his sentence, but the sadness in his eyes suddenly made him look terribly old. The royal doctor did not push: he was too discreet to ask questions, but he was observing none the less.

\- "We'll see," he said. "Anyway, it's not like we can change the King's heir's mind. Arthur is to become Crown Prince before the end of the month."

\- "Um," Gaius grumbled, and he took off his glasses to wipe them.

But this time, despite the worry that was deepening the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, there was pride on his face.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

The library slid open and the secret passage opened, flooding with light the staircase that went down into darkness.

\- "Bear!" said Daegal happily, stepping aside to let in the prince.

Arthur looked around and his eager gaze found the wizard in the garden, sitting on the guardrail next to the pond, feeding the carps.

Green bushes ruffled by a light breeze, a roof covered with gray slate and the dark wooden arches of the terrace were contrasting with Merlin's white fur-trimmed coat and his long blue robes. His hair had been cut short during his fever and the mop of black curls made him look younger. His emaciated face seemed to have more color too. His pensive cobalt eyes were staring at the graceful movements of the red carps beneath the surface of the water on which rose petals were floating.

Arthur's chest swelled at this peaceful scene, in an indescribable mixture of hope, fear and pain.

 _His friend. His best friend, maybe._

 _Today. Today he would know._

He closed his eyes for a moment, steadied his nerves, then turned to the secret passage and whistled softly. Daegal, who had cocked his head curiously, suddenly jumped back and quickly climbed onto the main beam of the ceiling.

\- "She won't hurt you," said the prince. "But give her time to get used to you."

The young bodyguard, at once fascinated and suspicious, uttered from his safe spot a series of incomprehensible mumblings.

The winged panther who had emerged from the darkness shoved her muzzle into Arthur's hand, as if searching for a treat, then ambled a few steps ahead like an animal whose rump and legs are beginning to stiffen with old age. She was entirely black, with green eyes a little veiled. You could see her ribs and her fur was not as shiny as it had used to be, but she carried her head majestically. Her round ears twitched, she sneezed, shook her whiskers. She walked around the room, her long dark tail beating up and down, sniffed the furniture, the books, then stopped and turned to look at the prince with such a human expression that he felt his heart stop.

\- "Panther!" Daegal said, dropping to the floor next to Arthur, obviously having decided that he had nothing to fear and delighted at the idea of making a new friend.

\- "Don't go near her yet," the young man warned, holding him back. "Kilga may be seventeen years old, but her jaws could still easily crush your wrist. She was never completely tamed and more than one regretted thinking she was only a harmless pet."

Daegal puckered his nose and his round eyes went from the panther to the prince, then from the prince to the panther and from there to his master in the garden. He lifted his chin and opened his mouth, but Arthur interrupted him.

\- "Merlin will be fine. Kilga won't hurt him."

\- "Wild animal prey on weak!" protested the kid, taking a step forward.

The prince shook his head, without taking his eyes off Kilga, who was now trotting towards the opened window. His throat dry, the young man swallowed hard. His clammy hand tightened on the sword at his belt.

 _If Kilga... if he was wrong... No, he had to be right... it was the ultimate test... Emrys had been the one to save the panther when she was only a kitten, years ago. An animal's instinct could not be fooled..._

Daegal freed himself from the prince's grip and he rushed behind the panther who was now going down the steps under the porch, her bony spine joggling under her rough black coat.

Merlin had not noticed anything. Lancelot and Gwen, on the other hand, were frozen on the terrace opposite, their eyes following the huge winged creature.

Kilga stopped. She had obviously spotted the wizard. She skirted a moss-covered stone turtle, crossed a sandy path, her wings brushed against a shrub, then she climbed onto the little wooden bridge in the center of the garden.

His paws made no sound on the boards but Merlin looked up.

The bag of food fell into the pond. Crumbs bloomed like a golden flower and sank. The red forms of the carps stirred, making the water bubble.

Kilga yawned, showing impressive fangs. Daegal yelped in anger and he rushed forwards – but before he could free himself again from the steel grip of the prince who had caught up with him, the panther reached the wizard...

... and rubbed her big head against his face.

Merlin slid down to his knees, and slowly wrapped his arms around the winged creature who was now purring and shoving her muzzle adoringly in his chest.

Daegal, stunned, stopped struggling.

The prince's hand let go of the child and fell back limp against his body. He started walking as in a dream. He went out, crossed the garden following the blue flagstones path and stopped at the bottom of the bridge without daring to go further.

Under the wooden arches, the wizard had buried his face in the panther's neck and it was not possible to see his expression.

The prince took a step forward, running a hand through his blond hair. On his male face, weathered by dozens of military campaigns, were streaming a child's tears.

\- "It's you, isn't it?" he rasped.

He stepped forward again and his smile grew, so immensely happy and so immensely sad that Lancelot had to look away to blow his nose and that Gwen stifled a sob in his apron.

Merlin was still kneeling. The panther pulled from his hug and she snuggled comfortably on his lap, purring, her big paws kneading his robes like a sedate kitten, her half-open veiled green eyes gazing at the young man who was lost in a daze.

Arthur reached them. For a few moments, his throat so tight that he barely could breathe, he stared at Merlin's trembling shoulders, then he wiped his face with his sleeve and squatted, resting his elbows on his knees, sniffling and smiling at the same time.

\- "It's you."

There was not the slightest doubt in his voice, only infinite tenderness.

The wizard raised his head, and his cobalt eyes, blurred with tears, met the prince's sapphire eyes, so bright and so determined.

\- "I'm sorry I did not recognize you earlier", Arthur said.

He rubbed the tip of his nose, nibbled his lips, struggling against the joy and the pain that were crashing like waves inside him.

 _I'm sorry I did not stand by you when you were fighting Caerleon. Forgive me for still being the same man when you suffered a thousand deaths, when even your face was ripped from you. Forgive me for not_ feeling _that you were alive somewhere, for not being able to clear your name in thirteen years, for not trusting you immediately when you came back._

He reached out, stroked Kilga's head, coughed to give himself some countenance as his emotion threatened again to overwhelm him.

\- "I brought back that pearl from Mercia, you know," he added in a tone that was meant to be light.

A flash of distress passed in the wizard's eyes. He pinched his lips so hard that they blanched. He turned his head away, his gaunt face became very weary.

\- "I'm not the one you remember," he murmured bitterly.

Arthur's heart contracted painfully.

\- "It doesn't matter," he whispered. "You're here. You're _alive_."

He drew closer, gently pushed aside the panther who sat a little further and coiled her tail around herself.

Merlin's hands were so cold: Arthur wrapped them in his, as he had done during that fateful night on Mount _Tintagel_.

\- "I can't fight with you anymore, I can't race. Hell, I can't even ride," said the wizard in a low, urgent, desperate voice. "I can't hold a sword or cast a spell, I have become all what we despised: someone who schemes in the shadows, who weaves a web to trap his enemies instead of confronting them face to face!"

He was crying.

 _Because nothing would be as it had been before. Because it had hurt so much to be so close to his best friend and not tell him the truth and yet he had cowardly hidden behind the lie: at least Arthur would never know Emrys of Ealdor had been reduced to an invalid plotting from his room. He would not compare them. He would not be disappointed, he would not feel pity, he would not have to force himself to..._

The prince's arms drew the wizard into a fierce embrace, without giving him the choice of pushing him away.

\- "It does not matter what you've become. It does not matter what you look like. It doesn't matter what name you go by now or what you have done", Arthur articulated fervently. "You're alive. You've come back and I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

Merlin gasped, as if something was breaking inside him. He buried his face in his best friend's shoulder and his hands gripped the prince's red tunic. Arthur swore in a low voice as he held in his strong arms the scrawny back shaking with silent sobs.

\- "I know you're tired of carrying that burden alone," he continued in a hoarse voice. "Let me help you from now on."

He was ready to beg if needed. He had spent the entire week thinking about what he would say to his friend if Kilga revealed it was him. To feverish gratitude had succeeded the teeth-grinding realization of how much the young captain he remembered must feel humiliated to be prisoner of this weak body. He had imagined himself in his place, felt burning shame at the idea of needing daily help from an old man, from a child. He had promised himself that he would act as if he did not notice his best friend's issues – then his heart had rebelled, accused him of selfishness and he had curled up in a corner of his room to quell his sorrow, so long that his officers had gathered in the courtyard, worried they were not hearing him roam the room like a mad animal anymore. Then, finally, he had gotten up, crushed under his fist the tears burning his cornea. _Emrys was_ alive _– these considerations were ridiculous!_ Sure, he was physically diminished, but his brilliant mind had been preserved: he had accomplished in two years what nobody would have thought possible. He was still amazing.

Arthur had decided he would not close his eyes. He had mourn enough. He would look at his friend in the eyes and he would not let him hide anymore.

\- "Nothing will change, I promise. It's not like you're completely different after all. You just became calmer and more reasonable. I changed too, I'm not that kid with whom you were doing all sorts of nonsense. We're older, that's to be expected. I will learn. We are reunited again, what could stop us now?"

Everything was so incredibly quiet in the garden. So beautiful and so peaceful. The pond in which the carps were swimming lazily, the bushes gently ruffled by the breeze, the engravings of the stone table on which was waiting a book next to the bronze hand-warmer... everything was exactly in its place, perfectly in harmony. From beyond the walls came the familiar sounds of the city and, in the distance, the red and gold banners were floating above the castle.

\- "I will ascend the throne, I will clear the names of our knights fallen in the Northern Mountains, I will give back their honor to your father and Prince Leon, I will restore Camelot's glory and peace," was murmuring Arthur like a lullaby. "I will watch over you, I will make you proud."

Over the wizard's shoulder, he could see the slender figure of the little bodyguard watching them anxiously, Lancelot who was coming over. Merlin was slouching more heavily against his chest. He had stopped quivering, probably passed out, overcome by this last turmoil of emotions.

So Arthur collected his best friend in his arms and carried him home, followed by Daegal and the panther.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

It was very dark in the castle's hallways exposed to the icy wind. The lanterns placed at the angles of the buildings did not light enough and even though the sentries who were stamping on site to not be cold were squinting hard, they could not make out from across the courtyard what was the moonbeams playing on the ogive windows – and what was unusual shadows.

A cunning smile curled on Agravaine's thin lips as he crept toward his rendezvous, wrapped in his black cloak, slipping noiselessly through the sleeping castle to go tell his master what he had just to discover: that the last obstacle separating them from the throne could be swept away by a single word.

In an instant, the flame would be nothing but ashes.

Merlin was Emrys.

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up:_** ** _TRAITORS_**


	16. Traitors (I)

**TRAITORS (I)**

* * *

The summer sun dazzled Arthur when he looked up at the wide doors of the throne room, at the top of the grand white stone staircase. The richly embroidered scarlet cloak he was wearing weighed a lot and swept the ground with a silky rustle. At his side hung a sword with a richly inlaid pommel and his well-polished armor was shining. He was bareheaded.

He was being bestowed today the Crown Prince title for which his best friend had worked so hard in the cold shadows and this warm light, pouring over him, painfully reminded him of all the sacrifices made for him. It was as if he were climbing the stairs on Emrys' back while the wizard gritted his teeth.

Arthur had never wanted to become King. He would have happily pledged allegiance to his elder brother if the tragedy had not taken place, almost fourteen years before. He dreamed of neither power nor glory - only of protecting the prosperity and peace of the people.

But he had no choice, now, as he was the only one able to stand up against Camelot's enemies - those who watched from across their borders for signs of weakness and those who crumbled the country's foundations from within with their compromises and lies.

He had sworn to himself he would be up to the task - worthy of the hope Merlin had placed in him. A day would come when Prince Leon's name would be cleared of treason and his dream of seeing Camelot ruled with wisdom would come true.

Arthur was going to restore the truth. He only lacked solid evidence to support the reopening of the investigation, but he knew the new ministers would support his request, regardless of the King's opposition. And others would step forward as well: all those who had kept quiet for years, fearing Uther Pendragon's wrath, but who remembered the valiant General Balinor and the knights who had fought loyally alongside the young captain of Ealdor. They would rally to him, they would dare speak up, now that he was powerful enough to protect them.

Having Emrys back was giving wings to the prince. He did not want to think about his best friend's health or the strange words he had said before the Spring Hunt: _of course_ Merlin was going to marry the second princess! Who would oppose this marriage when it would be proved there had never been treason, when the true identity of the wizard would be known and his titles given back to him?

They were going to be happy and Arthur would soon have plenty of adorable nephews to whom he would teach to fight with the sword. Daegal would show them where to steal apples, they would ride on Gwaine's broad shoulders. The residence of the Count of Ealdor would be reopened, the dead leaves littering the inner courtyard would be swept away, the spider webs taken off, the paint refreshed on the old gates. Giggles would fill the gardens. Freyja would no longer have to fight on bloody battlefields and whether her cooking would improve or not, there would always be someone to give it a try and laugh with her if it turned out to be too sugary. Emrys would read in the shade of the hundred-year-old plum tree, Kilga slumbering at his feet. It would not matter what people would say. They were going to be together again...

When the ceremony ended and the ministers and courtiers began to disperse after exchanging bows and congratulations, Arthur quietly left the too hot and too crowded throne room after handing over his crown and seal to the servants who would take them to his new official apartments. He strolled for a moment under the arcades, savoring the cool breeze and the quietness of the place, then climbed to the ramparts and contemplated the city spread in front of him under the sparkling sun.

The alive buzzing of the people who went about their business came from a distance. He could hear the banners flapping above the blue slate roofs, and he could see maidservants, down below, going across the light-filled courtyard in small hurried steps, escorting a noble lady. A bird whirled in the big blue sky and then went off to the mountains in the distance. Arthur's gaze followed him, as he wondered if Merlin was watching it too from his garden.

\- "I wonder if Morgan can see it from the royal prison," said a voice beside him, and he turned his head quickly, surprised that he had not heard anyone approaching.

Mordred leaned on the parapet and let his gaze wander for a moment on the landscape. He looked strangely dark.

Arthur waited patiently: although they were only two years apart and him being the youngest, because the responsibilities he had been given had made him grow up too fast and Mordred had always been rather shy and quiet, the fifth prince regarded him more as a younger sibling, whom one had to take care of, than looked up to him as he should have to an elder brother.

\- "He will die at the end of the year. Shedding royal blood during the fertile months would bring great disasters upon us, or so says the soothsayer. _Tch_. Father was not always this superstitious", said the fourth prince with a bitter snort. "I cannot imagine what Morgan must feel, cloistered in this gloomy cell, mocked by his guards, waiting slowly for the days to pass..."

Arthur stiffened, thinking of another, an innocent one, who had been executed after a brief stay in a similar cell before anyone could come to save him, and he could not help but reply curtly:

\- "Whatever bad advice he may have received, Morgan _chose_ his fate in the end! He _knew_ what would happen to him if he failed. He could have turned around at some point, but he stubbornly pushed on and is now reaping the consequences of rebelling against the King."

\- "Could he _really_ have turned around?" muttered Mordred. "Morgan has always sought Father's attention, but he never was _good enough_. Whatever he did, he was always compared to Leon or Alined – and lately to you. He never was the favorite one, the most brilliant or the most valiant. Constantly struggling to be noticed is a feeling that can make you lose your mind…"

\- "We were not born to be praised and admired!" Arthur protested. "The value of a prince is in his efforts to serve the people, to develop his country, to guide the ministers towards a wise management of resources. What does it matter if another receives more honors for his merits? Should we not be grateful that he is of our allies and not our enemy?"

Mordred sighed.

\- "You cannot understand that, I think. You've never been truly alone, brother, and you've always known what you wanted, who you were. You have not known the despair of a meaningless life."

\- "What kind of excuse is this?" Arthur exploded. "The humblest peasant has a purpose in his life: he works to feed and clothe his family, he raises his children so they can stand on their own two feet. A soldier obeys orders with loyalty, he endures the difficulties of military campaigns because he knows that even if nobody remembers his name, he will have helped protecting his country. A sorcerer cultivates his magic and studies his grimoires, because he wants to know the origins of this mystery, and see how far the gift he has received can lead him. So even more a prince, who is born with power and wealth should rejoice in having infinite possibilities to make himself useful."

\- "But what about our women, married without consent, humiliated when they cannot have children, forgotten when their beauty fades off? What about slaves and hostages? Can they be happy even in their condition? And what about those of us who are not as strong nor as sure of themselves as you are, who _need_ to be recognized, to be _loved_ despite their weaknesses, their poor achievements or their infirmities?"

The violence and suffering seeping in his brother's tone stopped Arthur before he countered again.

\- "You're not really talking about Morgan, are you?" he asked, softening. "What do you want to tell me, Mordred?"

The fourth prince set his eyes on the horizon. He took in a deep breath, then he started talking.

\- "Morgan is not the only one whose helplessness and spite have led to commit the irreparable," he whispered. "At that time... when Leon was the star of the Court, when all our ministers swore by him, when the courtiers sought his favor and the people sang his praises... I too was devoured by jealousy. He had _everything_ and I had _nothing_. He was handsome, he was smart and a glorious future was awaiting him while I was condemned to remain always in the shadows, to attract only commiseration and indifference... I could not stand it anymore."

A shudder ran down Arthur's neck. He turned pale, stumbled, recoiling instinctively. A cold sweat washed over him.

\- "What did you... _what did you_ _do_?" he stammered.

Mordred looked at him sadly.

\- "Let me finish before you judge me, little brother. Things are rarely as simple as they seem..."

He took a few steps on the sentry walk. The sun was still hot and blinding on the white stones, but Arthur felt like the whole castle had darkened.

\- "I was only twenty-one, but I was far from being as ignorant of the affairs of the Court as people thought," said Mordred. "If Father had given me a chance, I could have become a zealous minister – I had the ability, more than that, I wanted to. But the King never liked to see me stand in his presence, he'd rather act as if I did not exist. Leon often came to visit me, we talked about the country, about books, about everything, really. I was honored to have our elder brother's trust, his friendship. He kept telling me that he was trying to convince our father to give me something to do in Court, to let me out of the library."

There was some kind of exaltation in his voice, a mixture of despair and pride that was terribly sad to hear. They were still alone on the ramparts. The wind blowing at that height was ruffling Arthur's blond hair and Mordred's black curls.

\- "That winter, when war broke out in Mercia and on Caerleon's border, while you were away fighting – Freyja, Emrys, Lord Balinor, Gwaine, you – a quarrel over the resupply of the army took place. Some ministers were of opinion that food and weapons should be shipped by boat, others maintained that our enemies on the Eastern Border would jump on this occasion to weaken our defenses. The king put Leon in charge of settling this matter and our brother came to discuss it with me. It was a thorny issue. If his decision turned out to be bad, we could lose the war."

Arthur nodded slowly. Emrys had cared a lot about the logistics in the army and they had often spent long hours talking about it, looking for improvements. Merlin, much later, had also been passionate about this subject, at the risk of his identity being found out by his best friend.

\- "I looked at all the maps we had in the library, we studied old reports and we finally agreed that it was better to send the goods in several convoys, in order to limit the risks, and to even hide some of it under the cover of merchandises of little value. Leon then presented our idea to the King."

He gave a hollow and bitter laugh.

\- "Did he willingly fail to mention the idea came in part from me or did the King act as if he did not hear it? I don't know, but our brother was richly rewarded when the news came from the front that the supplies had arrived without incident... and I got _nothing_. I wasn't even summoned in to see Father."

Arthur could feel his heart pounding in his oppressed chest. He wanted to say that it was nothing new, _that Uther Pendragon had probably acted arbitrarily as he often did, that Leon was not like Alined and Morgan: he would never have accepted to be congratulated about something for which he did not have the whole merit if he could have done something about it..._ but he did not have time to speak.

\- "That day, I was so furious, so indignant that it was like a fire devouring my gut," Mordred continued, his teeth gritted. "So when the Baron came to me, his words felt like a refreshing spring – so cold that it numbed my heart."

He swallowed hard, looked away so he would not see his brother's face crumble down.

\- "Agravaine explained that Leon had been playing the model prince for years, secretly planning to overthrow the throne, that the war had been engineered by him and Caerleon, and that Lord Balinor was in collusion with him. He... I..."

He hesitated, his hands clenching on the parapet in front of him, his nails breaking on the white dusty stone. Perspiration was shining on his forehead. It was not his hunched back and his limp that made him look pitiful, nor his translucent skin, not even the trembling of his chin – it was the terrible guilt on his still youthful features, the shame in his eerie blue eyes that were shunning from Arthur's imploring gaze.

\- "The Baron asked me to write a letter. He explained that he did not dare to present his suspicions to the King: he would not be listened to and Leon might seek revenge on him. He claimed that we were just going to provide evidence where there wasn't any _yet_ , to help fate a little in order to save Camelot from the claws of a liar and a general who had too much power."

The fifth prince muffled a sob and Mordred lowered his head even more, crushed by his guilt.

\- "I did it," he continued with effort. "I wrote the letter and I entrusted it to Agravaine. I was blinded by my jealousy, my anger. I refused to listen to that little voice whispering to me that _maybe_ Leon was not a traitor. I started this chain of events and when I realized what the Baron was doing, fear paralyzed me. I knew I was in his hands. Denouncing him would cause my loss too, so I kept silent."

\- "What about Emrys?" Arthur wept. "What about the seventy thousand men who fought with him against Caerleon, whose sacrifice has protected the peace of our kingdom until this day? What about Lord Balinor whose head was exposed in public place like that of a vulgar criminal? What about Leon's fiancée who went mad with sorrow... what about all those people whom the King condemned to death because they dared try to defend them... When you saw what you had started, _why_ did not you say anything? _How_ could you let them die, just because you... because you... "

He was choking on his pain, his consternation, his incomprehension. Mordred could feel tears running down on his own face as well, but he smiled sadly, because at last, after all these years, the heavy weight of his regrets was finally gone.

He knelt before his brother.

\- "You know everything now. I'll do anything you want. You can take me to the King. I will admit everything – what I could not do at the time, because I was too scared, I will do it now. I will not make the same mistake twice."

His voice was pleading, but not for himself anymore.

\- There's an evil at work in the shadows. I can feel another tragedy preparing, although I don't have proof for it. I will _not_ let this happen a second time. You're the Crown Prince – the only hope for our poor Camelot, abandoned by Father to those who flatter him. I submit to you."

He bowed deep down, touch the ground with his forehead like an enemy who surrenders, like a prisoner who implores for his grace, like the most humble subject in front of the king.

Arthur staggered, running a hand over his face as if trying to chase away a nightmare.

\- "Leon _loved_ you," he stuttered. "Of all our family, he was the only one who treated you like a man, like an equal..."

Lost in a daze, he stumbled a few steps away on the sunbaked white ramparts.

 _Such a waste. Such a terrible mess..._

The sky was still big and blue above the slate roofs, and the familiar murmur of the city could be heard in the distance. Voices were calling somewhere in the castle: guards taking over watch or servants quarreling. A girl was laughing, a pure and joyful sound carried by the echo of a fountain. A horse was prancing in the courtyard below. From a garden terrace came the melancholic song of a viol.

After a long time, Arthur drew in a deep breath and wiped the bitter tears in his red-rimmed eyes. He returned to Mordred who had not moved and leaned to help him up.

\- "Come," he said. "There's someone you have to meet, someone who has more to forgive you than I have. _He_ will decide of your fate, not me."

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

When he was done preparing his friend, the fifth prince went back inside the secret tunnel to get his brother. Puzzled, Mordred stepped out in this other library, then stopped, finding himself face to face with Merlin.

The young man was standing in the middle of the room, wearing long robes as white as his face. Daegal, who was watching him like a hawk from the corner of the room where he had been ordered to stay, cast an accusing glance at the newcomer, because Gaius had been very angry during the previous hours and Lancelot had taken with him several tissues stained with blood when he had left earlier.

\- "You don't have to endure his presence," said Arthur softly, coming closer to support the wizard. "When we're done talking to him, I'll have him leave right away."

\- "I will be fine," Merlin muttered, leaning heavily on the offered arm, but without taking his eyes off the hunchback prince whose jealousy he had never suspected – and whose despair and frustration he could well understand, now that he himself had spent fourteen years prisoner of a weak and limited body.

Mordred frowned. He looked at his brother, trying to understand why this much mystery and precautions, why he had been taken to the wizard who had no connection with...

 _The wizard who had settled in Camelot a year and a half ago, just before everything had begun to break down in the Court... The frail scholar who had led the defenses of the Hunting Lodge like a seasoned general, a few months earlier... the Chief of the Alliance of the East River, who was said could command to dragons... The man who had won over Arthur's respect and friendship and chosen the last of the princes to ascend the throne…_

Mordred paused suddenly, stumbled back and fell to his knees.

\- "You… you are…"

His pupils widened and burning tears sprang in his eerie blue eyes as his heart clamped.

\- " _Emrys_... you're _Emrys_..."

Merlin made no sign of assent. His eyes were blazing. He straightened his thin figure, stood very straight, like an avenging angel, crowned by the tawny late afternoon light.

Mordred bowed to the ground.

\- "I'm sorry… I'm _so_ sorry… I'm a wretch…" he stammered. "I deserve to die..."

For a long moment there was nothing but the muffled sound of his remorseful sobs in the silence, then someone took a step. Long robes swept the floor, a hand touched the quivering shoulder of the prostrated prince.

\- "Years ago... when hatred was consuming me... when it felt like my pain could only be appeased by a sacrifice... I would have had no pity," slowly said the man who had been Emrys of Ealdor. "But violence calls only to violence, treason generates only retaliation and this infernal cycle can only go round and round as the hurt never ends – unless someone decides to break it. At first I too was blinded, but then I met someone who had suffered just as much as I had, maybe even more… and I finally understood that I was wrong."

He turned his head towards the young bodyguard, who was waiting sullenly and smiled at the kid whose face immediately lit up, called him back to him and ruffled his hair affectionately.

\- "I found Daegal and he showed me that nothing was more precious than life, that there were more important things than the injustice I had suffered. I had people to love, a kingdom to protect, another choice to make. He made me understand that I may have been abandoned by men, but I was not alone in the world."

Merlin leaned forward, supported by both Arthur and Daegal, reached over and gently invited Mordred to lift his head.

\- "I did not return for revenge," he continued. "I have come to bring back justice and peace in this sickly land. And to accomplish this, I've placed my hope in someone who has never deviated once from the path he had chosen."

He waited for the hunchback young man to look at him to resume talking, grave, but with great gentleness.

\- "We don't know if we will succeed, but we are determined to restore the truth. Of course, punishment will not be spared to those who have committed crimes. But I will not turn my back on anyone who wishes to fix his mistakes, because I _believe_ that to get up again, Camelot needs help from all its children – even those who have hurt it in the past."

\- "What should I do?" the fourth prince whispered.

In the growing darkness, his eerie blue eyes were gleaming with a mixture of shame and gratitude.

\- "Arthur is the one to whom we've all pledged allegiance to," replied the wizard, exhausted. "Ask _him_ , Your Highness."

Mordred turned to his brother and, in that gaze where he had expected to read a violent indignation contained by an iron will, he saw only a humble request.

\- "We need your help in asking the King to reopen the investigation", said bluntly Arthur, after he had helped his friend sit. Daegal brought a blanket and wrapped his master in it. "During the birthday banquet, when all the ministers and courtiers will be gathered, Father won't be able to refuse listening to a request. We want you to step forward, confess what you did and demand justice for those who were falsely accused fourteen years ago."

The fourth prince paled, but resolution did not falter on his youthful features. He knew what doing this would expose him to. He also knew that once they started, there would be no turning back: neither for him who would have to face the consequences of his betrayal, nor for Merlin whose identity would certainly be unveiled, nor for Arthur whom the King would see from that moment on as a rival.

At this price only, truth would be restored and Camelot purged of the gangrene that has been devouring it for fourteen years.

\- "I'll do it," Mordred said in a slightly hoarse voice.

Night had fallen completely, now. In the garden, crickets had started their song and a frog was croaking near the pond. The trees were rustling softly. Above the house, the round and cracked moon was surrounded by a reddish halo: the wind that had risen the day before was not about to fall.

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up_** ** _: TRAITORS (II)_**


	17. Traitors (II)

**TRAITORS (II)**

* * *

The day had come.

Uther Pendragon was in a great mood. He was humming while Queen Ygraine finished straightening his large sleeves and adjusting his broad brocade girdle. After his breakfast, which he took surrounded by his children, including Mordred, he invited Arthur to play chess with him, teased the princesses and even tenderly complimented his wife – something that had not happened in _years_.

He did not see any of the serious glances his sons shared behind his back, nor did he notice that his youngest daughter was strangely dressed for the occasion.

Freyja was wearing a black silk dress embroidered with egrets. Her sumptuous chestnut mane, pulled up and braided in crown like it was tradition for married women, was simply adorned with white peonies.

People rarely paid attention to her when she stood next to her pretty sister and Morgause was particularly gorgeous today, in pink from head to toe, her dress dazzling with precious stones, scented, smiling and wearing makeup. But if someone had stopped to _really_ look at Freyja, they would immediately have seen what was wrong.

It was the King's birthday and _Freyja was in mourning_.

Ygraine did not miss it, and she shuddered under her heavy gold tiara, pursed her lacquered vermeil lips, crumpled her magnificent blue gown as she got up. She took aside her daughter to talk to her, tried to convince her to change into something more joyful and dainty... but Freyja showed her the silver bangle on her wrist – her engagement gift, the only jewel she was wearing. Very pale, she looked at her mother with unwavering determination and the Queen understood that it was useless to insist.

The day had come.

At the other end of town, Lancelot was also preparing his master. Lastly, he tied the long black curls with a leather cord, then stepped back. Merlin checked that he was comfortable with his movements, nervously fiddled with the _Scarlet Wings_ bracelet he had on his wrist and hid it under the folds of fabric. Gwen had spent hours festooning the sleeves of the brown robes the wizard would wear at the banquet. He would be elegant enough not to offend the crowd of courtiers, but without denying the austere simplicity that was his.

Daegal came in, followed by the winged panther who nuzzled her master's hand. The little bodyguard's bangs were dripping wet, his cheeks bright red – he must have rubbed them with application – his hair more or less combed and gathered in a ponytail. He had put on his best outfit and was bringing in his ribbon, which he held out imperiously for someone to help him tie it up. Merlin shook his head gently.

\- "I have to go alone," he said. "You stay here with Lancelot and Kilga."

At the disapproving pout, he smiled.

\- "You would be bored. It's only going to be adults talking or reciting poetry. Food and wine will be fancy, but you wouldn't be allowed to stuff yourself and you don't like wine. Don't be sad. When I'll come back... when it'll be over..."

He paused, lowered his lashes for a moment, as if he did not have the courage to face the child's trusting, round eyes. The former knight, who was brushing a lose thread on the young man's shoulder, held his breath.

\- "In a few weeks, we'll leave Camelot," Merlin said, raising his chin. "We'll go on a journey. I've told you about Excalibur: would you like to go try to get the sword out of the stone? Who knows, maybe you'll succeed Arthur someday... We could also explore _Gedref's Labyrinth_ or return to the shores of _Meredoc Sea_ , where we found you. You have a book about _Idirholas Desert_ , but you've never fought one of the Medhir ghost-knights. Where would you like to go, Daegal?"

The young bodyguard tilted his head sideways, frowning, thinking intently. Then his face lit up:

\- "With Merlin!"

Lancelot felt his heart tighten.

\- "See?" he said in a tone that was meant to be light. "Wherever would do, all that matters is that we are with you."

The wizard cleared his throat, fighting his emotion.

\- "I already said you're not coming, Lancelot," he protested severely. "I need someone I can trust to manage the _Alliance of the East River_ when I'm gone."

\- "Perceval will take care of it," replied the former knight. "You can't travel just with a kid and an old man."

\- "Kilga!" chirped in Daegal eagerly. He thought again, counted on his fingers. "Big Fellow! Princess!"

He hesitated, then, his nose scrunching up like a big brother unwilling to include the youngest of the family in the fun part, he added again with a resigned shrug:

\- "Bear too."

This time, Merlin could not hold back a choked laugh and he ran his hand quickly over his face to hide his emotion.

\- "I see you're not forgetting anyone," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

He hugged Daegal and the boy snuggled against him, happy.

\- "It's going to go well, Daegal," the wizard whispered, more to himself than to the child. "Everything will be fine, today – and later as well. Don't you worry..."

He finally pulled himself from the little bodyguard, scratched in between the ears the panther who was purring, rubbing her head against his legs, then he headed to the door.

He did not need a coat, the summer sun flooded the garden and filled the house with light and golden heat, but he shuddered, still.

\- "If news come from Essetir, make sure to send me a message through that trustworthy person we have in the castle," he ordered again before leaving. "We cannot afford the slightest misstep today and this silence is not normal."

Lancelot nodded, but he did not look worried.

\- "Our men live at a slower pace in this season... Alvarr must have found a sweetheart, it would explain the spacing of the messages. Well, you'll scold him when he comes to report next time."

Merlin sighed, unconvinced, and left the room. Daegal and Kilga sauntered to the garden to play and Lancelot's gaze followed his friend as the wizard crossed the inner courtyard, stepped out in the street and climbed into the carriage that had come for him, helped by a servant in royal livery.

Gwen and Gaius closed the doors after he left, then shared a long look.

\- "Please, let it go well," whispered the young woman, clasping her hands.

\- "It's not so much the result of this day that I'm afraid of", grumbled the old man. "But I fear what will follow. So far, he was holding on because of his goal, but... what will happen when there will be no more need to be strong until the task is accomplished? When the tension of all these years will crumble suddenly, when there will be nothing else to do than taking care of himself, than trying to be happy, to live... ?"

Gwen put her fists on her hips.

\- "Well, he gave us a sense of hope and something to work for. We'll make sure to give him a taste for life!" she said firmly. "We'll take good care of him, you'll see. Lancelot will make sure he's never cold, I'll cook delicious food for him, Prince Arthur will come to visit him. He'll make himself busy with teaching our Daegal who's growing up. And maybe we'll manage to make him see that Lady Freyja is no more of a daydreaming young lass and will be content to simply be by his side, even if... "

She broke off and sighed, her eyes moistening up.

\- "Well, if there was a baby someday... it'd be wonderful, though", she whispered, wiping her cheeks with the corner of her apron. "I know that in his condition, it's unlikely... but still, Heaven may have pity on him, who knows?"

The doctor said nothing, looking gloomy. Lancelot, Gwen, Arthur, Freyja, Daegal... they all loved the wizard so much that they refused to face the truth, but the doctor knew that only Merlin's steel will had supported him in the last months: fourteen years was a very long time to hold his breath and the young man had fought for every minute of the last two years...

Now that he was reaching his goal, the fire that had been burning in him was about to die, and with Merlin's ashes, the last sparks of Emrys' ardent heart would fly away.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

The day had come.

The party was in full swing. Servants kept filling the cups with fragrant wine, dishes after dishes of delicious food were being brought in, and conversations were mingling with laughter and jingles of jewels. Uther Pendragon, leaning towards his steward, congratulated him. Princess Morgause was flirting, waving her fan, surrounded by young and handsome courtiers, each of her graceful head movements sending forth sparkles. Dancers were swaying graciously, draping themselves in red veils, shimmering in the light of the thousands of candles in the large reception hall, but the music played along seemed stifled, far away, to those who knew what was to follow.

At last, Mordred rose and slowly came on the carpet before the throne. The King, puzzled, watched him kneel and bow deeply.

\- "Well, my son. What's with the grand salute? You've already offered me your wishes for a long life at the beginning of the feast."

The young man straightened up. He was extremely pale, but his voice did not falter. All eyes were fixed on him – those who _knew_ were holding their breath, praying he would have the courage to go all the way, and the others, intrigued, were somewhat feeling that something serious was about to happen.

\- "May Father have mercy and listen to my request. There is something I've hidden from Your Majesty for years and which weight I can no longer bear. Let me confess my fault so that Heaven may be appeased and Camelot stay prosperous."

The king frowned.

\- "What is it about?" he asked ungraciously. "I hope you won't spoil this celebration, Mordred."

The young man drew in a deep breath and he pulled out of his sleeve a folded letter that he presented to Uther Pendragon.

\- "May Your Majesty achieve justice for those who died unjustly condemned," he began. "Fourteen years ago, the King received a letter accusing Prince Leon and General Balinor of high treason. I know for a fact that this accusation was false, for that letter was written by my hand. This is my first crime."

A stupefied whisper ran over the people assembled in the room. Uther Pendragon blanched.

\- "Troops were sent over to the Northern Mountains, supposedly to verify the contents of the letter, but in truth Agravaine's men ambushed the reinforcements also heading there and annihilated them. A man from my suite was with them and witnessed the massacre. However, when this news got to me, I dared not speak up in Court, and I let the baron deceive Your Majesty. This is my second crime."

His breath hitched and he steadied his voice. His fingers were clenched on the letter he was still holding. On the side, from her royal seat, Ygraine was looking at him, her eyes filled up with tears.

\- "From this expedition, Agravaine brought back a wounded man who claimed the reinforcements had been attacked by General Balinor and his troops. The Baron asked Your Majesty for the royal seal in order to subdue the rebels. But, contrary to what he later said, without any warning, without presenting the royal seal and asking for capitulation, he attacked the exhausted army and slaughtered without mercy the seventy thousand men who had fought in Your Majesty's name to protect Camelot's peace."

\- "You're drunk!" the King shouted. "You're humiliating me on my birthday. I have nothing to do with your ramblings, this case was judged and closed years ago!"

\- "I was a witness of this, for I went to the North with Agravaine's troops," continued Mordred courageously, raising his voice to cover the shocked murmurs rising in the reception hall. "I was young and naive and I may not have completely understood what was truly happening, but when I could have told Your Majesty about this, I kept silent because I was afraid of the king's wrath. This is my third crime."

\- "Lies!" yelled his father, livid. "Guards, take the prince away! I do not want to hear another word!"

Heavy steps shook the floor and armors clanked round the room as the Royal Guards put themselves in position, hands on their swords. But none got to Mordred, who was still kneeling, for Gwaine halted them. He had stepped up, leaving his position right next to the throne. In silence, he came to stand in front of the King, threw his cloak back and knelt down on one knee. Clasping his hands in front of him, he bowed respectfully.

\- "I humbly ask Your Majesty to allow the prince to finish presenting his request."

Uther Pendragon's eyes widened at this unexpected intervention of his most faithful servant. But before he could reply, Mordred spoke again.

\- "With the military seal taken on Lord Balinor's dead body, Baron Agravaine forged new letters and presented to Your Majesty a correspondence exchanged between Prince Leon and Caerleon, revealing the prince's intention to take the throne by force. I knew these letters were fake because I was there when they were written, but I said nothing, because Baron Agravaine had made me see that I was bound to this treachery, now, and that to speak would mean my death. This is my fourth crime."

He swallowed hard and tears welled up in his eerie blue eyes.

\- "Why are you doing this to me?" cried the King, outraged. "Have I not been good to you?"

\- "When Prince Leon was executed, I was present in the cell," continued Mordred without faltering. "I was the one who read the death sentence edict three times for our elder brother who could not bring himself to believe our father was ordering him to die. I could have revealed the truth at this time again, but even in front of my innocent brother I did not find the courage to face my heart. I barricaded myself behind my jealousy, handed him the poison and then... "

His voice choked and his eyelids dropped, for he could not bear to see the look on his mother's face. Uther Pendragon was on the verge of apoplexy.

\- "I left the prison. This is my fifth and biggest crime. Later, I saw how Agravaine dismissed all those who wanted to tell the King that something was not right, how the Secret Services maneuvered to kill and silence anyone who could have uncovered the truth. I took refuge behind the certainty that my silence was protecting me and I lived like a coward until this day."

He raised his chin, cleared his throat and he finished his long plea, determined to go to the end, looking straight in his father's eyes:

\- "For these six unforgivable crimes, I ask Your Majesty to exert justice and to allow me to expiate my faults!"

And he bowed again.

In the petrified silence, all eyes turned to Freyja when she got up slowly, rounded the table and came to stand before the King.

\- "Fourteen years ago, a decree of your Majesty had betrothed me to Emrys of Ealdor," she said firmly, lifting her beautiful eyes in which an indomitable flame was burning. "As the last surviving member of his family, I also request the reopening of the case. May Your Majesty uphold justice and repair the wrongs done to your daughter!"

\- "How dare you?" roared her father, not seeing what was obvious to everybody else in the room: that it was the widow of a war hero and not a young impetuous princess who was standing before him. "I spared you my wrath, I pardoned you! How dare you support your brother in his ramblings and bring back this sordid affair? I was going to wed you off, to give you back the reputation you foolishly lost and you join in this masquerade!"

Freyja only kneeled and lowered her forehead to the ground.

\- "What's with you two today?" shouted Uther Pendragon, irate. "What do you want from me?"

The new Minister of Justice detached himself from the other ministers and bowed respectfully. He was known for his righteousness and inflexibility, so everyone held their breath.

\- "Your Majesty, the petition presented by the third prince deserves to be examined. It has been recently proved to the Court that Baron Agravaine was a traitor. I reckon we should look closely at the revelations made by His Highness Mordred and make sure Your Majesty was not deceived in the past. The reputation of the King is at stake."

Geoffrey of Monmouth, the minister who had the most influence over the others – his foolproof honesty and his sense of work were wide known – stepped forward too.

\- "I support the request to reopen the case", he said calmly. "If the people was to learn such an error has been committed in the past, the peace of the kingdom could be threatened."

The other ministers did not hesitate any longer and soon, in a rustling of robes, all these graying heads were bowing and repeating:

\- "We support the request! May your Majesty reopen the case!"

\- "What error?" howled Uther Pendragon, red with fury as the situation was eluding him and the hesitant courtiers wondering if it was better for them to follow the movement or to stay in their place: some among the older ones were already getting up and kneeling painfully, joining their voices to the general supplication.

Queen Ygraine was still pale and silent, but her delicate hands were tearing apart her handkerchief as she waited anxiously.

Hidden behind her fan, Morgause was not losing a word.

Merlin had not uttered a word, not moved an inch.

Arthur, at last, got up slowly. The King almost choked. His bulging eyes watched his son as he crossed the room, went to Mordred and leaned to gently help him up.

Then the fifth prince turned around and faced his father. He clasped his hands in front of him in a wide movement of his scarlet sleeves, his blue eyes looked at Uther Pendragon without any fear and he said in a steady and loud voice:

\- "I support the request to reopen the case too. May Your Majesty grant us justice!"

For a few moments, the King only stared at him, repeating mechanically:

\- "You... you too... you too..."

Then something changed in the king's gaze as he looked at the crowd gathered in front of him to ask him to reconsider a case he had personally closed, which he had forbidden people to speak of for years – and when you would have expected his heart to be touched, for the father to remember the son, and for him to seek to right the wrongs committed in the past, it was the suspicious monarch who took over. His face hardened, he straightened up, his veins bulging on his forehead, his voice dripping with contempt.

\- "Traitor!" he snarled. "All this time you were working in the shadows to make me fall! This is just a machination to help you take over the throne, but I will not go down without a fight! I'll crush this rebellion like I've crushed every other foolish attempt! This crown is mine! _Mine! Mine! Mine!_ "

Seething, he swept off his table dishes, goblets, fruits, wine, sending it all to crash on the floor.

\- "Guards! Arrest them!"

Not a single man in armor around the room made a movement. Uther Pendragon realized they were all staring at Gwaine, who was intently watching the fifth prince, and he understood suddenly that he could do nothing, that he was forced to listen.

\- "No one here is trying to start a rebellion, Your Majesty," Arthur said calmly. "We seek only truth. For those who are guilty to be punished, for those who are innocent to be washed of all accusation."

The ministers in the background nodded warily.

\- "Who's guilty? Who's innocent? They're all _dead_!" bellowed the King. "What will this change? As for Baron Agravaine, he's on the run: how will you check the charges against him? All this is just a pretext, I can see clearly that you have manipulated your brother and the Court to create this scandal, to bind my hands!"

His eyes fell on Merlin and he spluttered in rage.

\- "It's all because of this so-called _Wizard of the East_! You were only a soldier, a boor! Without him, you'd never have come so far, you'd never have played this _tour de force_ and trap me! He's not saying anything, the deceitful snake, but from the beginning he's been sowing discord in _my_ kingdom!"

In the silence so thick that it could have been cut with a knife, the wizard rose slowly, walked around his table. The crowd parted to let him pass and come at the foot of the throne.

\- "When Your Majesty was only a prince, you were unjustly accused and thrown into the royal prisons. At the time, it was Balinor, a simple knight at the time, who proved your innocence and pleaded for you."

Everyone was listening, hanging on the lips of the frail young man who was speaking loud and clear, subjugating the king.

\- "Forty years ago, when the seven princes' battle occurred, the Earl of Ealdor fought by your side and carved a bloody path to place you on the throne", went on Merlin. "In the twentieth year of your reign, when the Great Plague happened and the people besieged the capital and trapped the royal family in the Castle, it was again General Balinor who returned from Nemeth with his troops without taking the slightest rest, and saved your Majesty."

His voice was vibrant and his blue eyes were blazing.

\- "What is asked today is only to reopen an old case, to look into the death of your most faithful servant and the accusation of treason against your eldest son. What is so difficult to accept in this petition, Your Majesty? Don't you want to know the truth? What are you afraid of? Do you think we'll find _another culprit_?"

Ashen, Uther Pendragon stepped back and fell back on his throne.

\- "Who are you?" he stammered. "How do you know these things?"

A rustle of silk and a tinkle averted the eyes from the cornered king and Arthur, surprised, involuntarily turned to Merlin to see if he had planned this new intervention. But the wizard's gaze, like the others, was following Morgause who was heading to her father, swaying gracefully in her long pink gown strewn with embroidered flowers, her many jewels jingling at her delicate ears and her fine wrists.

She leaned forward, hid her crimson lips behind her white hand and whispered something.

The King's eyes widened.

\- "I can bring here the man from Essetir whom revealed this secret under torture," the princess added, straightening up. "Would that please Your Majesty?"

She was smiling, but there was something absolutely terrifying in the adorable coldness of that enchanting face.

Uther Pendragon waved her off. He sat up, quaking like an old man. Groping, he grabbed the armrests of the throne and stood up wobblingly.

\- "Traitor," he mumbled. "Traitor back from Hell... seeking revenge..."

He pushed away Morgause who wanted to support him, staggered down the steps of the throne.

\- "Vile traitor… devious snake... I knew it, I knew it..."

His pupils were dilated and his black coat embroidered with gold was slipping from his shoulders. He stepped on it, lost his balance, stumbled and would have fallen in not for the arm of the anxious steward who was following him close.

The crown tumbled on the royal carpet.

The King grabbed the sword from a guard near him before anyone could react and suddenly rushed to Merlin.

Freyja uttered a cry. Gwaine tensed up, ready for battle. The Queen, Mordred, the ministers and all the courtiers gathered around them gasped in unison.

Arthur stepped in between his father and his best friend.

\- "Move aside," the king ordered hoarsely.

His gray hair was tousled, his face swollen with anger and fear – he looked like a mad man.

He pushed the tip of the sword against his son's chest, but Arthur did not blink, even when a scarlet thread was torn under the sharp blade.

\- "Do not think I will not kill you. You are not indispensable, I can replace you. I still have a child I can make my heir", articulated Uther Pendragon.

Arthur looked at him with infinite sadness, but the resolution on his male features did not falter.

\- "You _are_ the King, Father. You can kill me", he said softly. "You can kill anyone who asks for the reopening of the case... but then who will you rule over? Will you still be a great king?"

The sword quivered on his chest.

Everyone was holding their breath around them. Ygraine had risen and was trembling, biting her lips. Freyja was very pale, Gwaine looked ready to fight and die protecting the prince and the wizard.

Merlin was very calm.

\- "My brother's dream was to see his country prosperous and at peace. What he did not, I won't do it either", Arthur added in a low voice. "But I will not be _another_ Prince Leon."

For a terrifyingly long moment, they both stood facing each other, the fallen old man abandoned by all and the blond young prince who had never betrayed his loved ones, and then the sword fell on the floor with a clatter.

\- "Traitors," muttered Uther Pendragon, looking haunted. He took a few steps, staggering. "Traitors... traitors..."

Appalled, the courtiers watched him as he walked slowly to the back of the room, haggard, dragging his feet on the royal carpet. The ministers, aghast, stepped back to let him pass, the servants bowed to the ground.

\- "Traitors... traitors..." was repeating the monarch with a dry sob, from time to time, walking like lost in a nightmare. "Traitors... traitors..."

The steward had picked up the crown and was following him at a respectful distance. When the wide doors opened before them, his high-pitched voice echoed in the silent reception hall:

\- "The King is leaving... the King is leaving..."

Arthur had not moved, had not turned around. A single tear, hot and bitter, was glistening down his cheek. It slipped under his chin, fell and a lonely dark star stained his scarlet tunic embroidered with a golden dragon.

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up_** ** _: JUDGEMENT_**


	18. Judgement

**JUDGMENT**

* * *

His steps had taken him back to his apartments and he found himself in front of the chess board, on which the game played earlier against Arthur was waiting. He had a hiccup, which turned into a broken laugh. Then he knocked everything down, sweeping off the white and black pawns that seemed to taunt him, and aggressively overturned the small table.

\- " _We should finish our battle when we come back_... Ha! How can I fight now?"

Livid, he threw statuettes across the room, tore apart cushions in a cloud of scattered feathers, kicked furniture and screamed in rage. Then, panting, red, exhausted, he threw himself to the ground and laid there, fists drumming on the floor, his gray hair tangled, mumbling like a crazy old man.

\- "He has completely escaped my authority... stolen everything from me... the Royal Guards obey him... the army is under his control... even the ministers and the courtiers are bewitched by him... everyone rallied to him... I'm the master, but he has cornered me like a wretch!"

He jumped when someone touched his arm, lifted his blotched face. Ygraine was looking at him in concern.

She was so beautiful, in her artistically embroidered blue silk dress, with her gold tiara and her fair hair glossed by the afternoon sun...

A hysterical laugh racked him.

\- "How dare you show yourself in front of me?" he snarled. "I know you've been plotting with him: you hate me from the beginning!"

She did not answer, slowly knelt down in front of him - but not in a sign of respect, rather like a mother who lowers herself to her capricious child.

\- "Your Majesty, the Crown Prince is only asking for the reopening of an old case", she said patiently. "He's not starting a rebellion... why are you here counting troops?"

This time, he cackled ironically, leaning against the ravaged couch behind him.

\- "Hypocrite!" he snickered. "Mother and son, you're so alike: pretending to love me and acting in the shadows, scheming to bring this case back to light. How could I be so blind? A woman as seductive as you are can only nurse snakes! Ah, the lies, the great declarations of fidelity, when he was actually preparing this master move! You can congratulate yourself: you've raised a brilliant con man, madam!"

Ygraine swallowed hard, visibly hurt, but then she looked up, determined.

\- "You can call it ruses, Your Majesty, but you should see that there's another reason why this old case should be reinvestigated," she said bravely.

He frowned.

\- "Which one?"

She was looking straight at him for the first time in years, and he realized how much what he had said earlier was true, in a sense: Ygraine and Arthur looked very much alike. They had the same blond hair, the same expressive blue eyes, in which one had the impression they could drown...

\- "The _truth_ ," she answered gravely, and he shuddered in spite of himself. "Your Majesty, if you do not want to know what really happened at the time, no one can force you. But the King himself has things he cannot accomplish."

She seemed taller and her voice was exalted – she had never acted so resolutely and he was both fascinated and frightened.

\- "For example, you cannot influence the conscience and morals of the people. You cannot change the critical opinion people will have of you in the future", she continued. "You cannot prevent the dead you once loved from coming to haunt your dreams!"

Her eyes were filled with tears. She leaned forward and he instinctively drew back, pressed his back against the couch.

\- "Have you ever heard, in your sleep, the voice of our son? Did you ever see his face in your dreams?"

He pushed her away and backed off as if he was running away. The golden light flooding his apartments seemed suddenly gray, the objects and broken furniture spread around him like a dreary spectacle of desolation.

\- "Shut up!" he stammered, furious. "Why would he torment me? It was all Mordred and Agravaine's fault!"

She looked at him with an infinitely sad expression.

\- "I believe even someone as evil-minded as Agravaine must see in his nightmares people he killed unjustly", she said softly.

Uther was looking for a scathing reply and he just found it. He came back to Ygraine, squatted, grabbed the kneeling woman's chin and lifted it forcefully.

\- "Oh, but Agravaine was right about one thing at least!" he hissed. " _He_ 's back. All this happened because of _him_. Tell me the truth – Merlin is Emrys, isn't he?"

She did not try to break free, she stayed silent. Her beautiful blue eyes just stared at him, until he let go, a little embarrassed.

\- "What difference does it make if he's Emrys or not?" she sighed then. "Agravaine's betrayal is a real thing, the injustice suffered by the _Scarlet Wings_ as well."

A flash of anger passed in her eyes.

\- "Why are you always suspecting hidden intentions? Why can't you trust those who love you?" she went on passionately. "The bond between a father and his son, the love between a husband and his wife, the fraternity between comrades, the loyalty of the subject to his king... don't you see that all these relationships were destroyed by your endless suspicions?"

\- "Shut up!" he bawled. "I refuse to listen to you!"

He had raised his arm, threatening, but he did not hit her. She had barely flinched. Her eyes were blazing, defying him.

They did not move for a few moments.

Then because he could not bear this accusing look anymore, he rushed to the door, called imperiously his steward, whom he was sure was just waiting outside. The man rushed into the room, bowed feverishly.

\- "What's the situation outside?" Uther Pendragon demanded.

The servant glanced anxiously at the Queen, who was still kneeling by the couch, then answered nervously:

\- "The Crown Prince is waiting for your royal edict in the courtyard."

\- "And the others? The ministers, the courtiers?"

\- "No one left the reception hall, Your Majesty."

There was a long silence during which the servant did not dare lift his eyes and only fiddled with the tassels at his belt. Then, as the tension became too thick, he timidly ventured:

\- "Does your Majesty wish to see the Crown Prince?"

\- "No. Not him", said the King in a muffled voice. "Call in Merlin. I want to talk to him - alone."

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

Arthur stopped Merlin before he went up the stairs. The blazing sun on the white flagstones of the Court was pounding his neck and large drops of sweat were sticking his blond hair on his forehead, but the prince had not moved from his spot for over an hour.

\- "If he tries to... if he offers you wine or..."

His voice choked. He did not know what he would do if his father tried to kill his best friend. Perhaps he would commit the irreparable...

\- "Be careful," he whispered. "Do _not_ trust him."

Merlin gently squeezed the hand holding him by the arm, then pushed it away gently.

\- "Don't be worried," he said reassuringly, although there was a somewhat sad and resigned gleam in his blue eyes. "He cannot stop the reopening of the case now. He and I are just going to have a conversation."

Arthur hesitated, then he nodded, his throat tight, and watched as the wizard climbed slowly the steps to the throne room.

There were no guard around, not the least servant. Everything was incredibly quiet, as if the whole castle was holding its breath.

The throne room seemed all the more immense without the crowd of courtiers and ministers who usually filled it. Merlin's footsteps could have echoed beneath the high arcades, had they not been muffled by the thick carpet unrolling from the big doors to the stone seat at the far end. Glittering particles were dancing in the light, dusting in gold the rich embroidered draperies, the imposing pillars and the carved dragons that framed the King.

The wizard stopped at the foot of the throne and gave a polite nod, as he would have done in the street to a mere passer-by.

His blue eyes looked without fear at the arrogant old man.

\- "First time I met you, I remember I asked you why you had come to Camelot," said coldly Uther Pendragon after a moment. "You told me you were here to nurse your health, take care of some business and catch up with friends."

He snorted.

\- "In fact you had already planned to destroy me."

Merlin did not answer. He did not deny either, just remained silent.

\- "Well, you have achieved what you wanted", continued the King with biting irony. "I have no more supporters in the castle, I'm just an old man with no power. Are you satisfied?"

The wizard sighed.

\- "Your Majesty still is the King of Camelot," he answered patiently. "Even now, ministers and courtiers are waiting for you to exercise your righteous justice."

Uther Pendragon burst out laughing.

\- "What you mean," he said, "is that I will be considered just and virtuous _only_ if I allow the reopening of the case!"

Merlin did not answer. The king looked at him curiously.

\- "Why did not you wait until I was dead to bring this matter back to the light?" he asked, intrigued and annoyed. "Or rather, why did you not strike me at Mount _Tintagel_?"

This time, something frightening flashed through Merlin's eyes and his chest heaved, unable to contain his emotion.

\- "Does Your Majesty still not understand?" he retorted in a scathing voice. "Wasn't Prince Leon your son? Wasn't Balinor your friend before being your most faithful servant? Why are you so eager to stop people who want to prove their innocence?"

Uther Pendragon jumped up and pointed at him angrily.

\- "I don't believe you!" He shouted. "It cannot be _just_ a new trial that you are looking for! Especially _you_! I know who you are, you came back to avenge yourself!"

The blazing gaze of the wizard pierced through him.

\- "How long has it been since Prince Mordred confessed his crimes?" Merlin asked. "Don't you want to interrogate him, to look at the evidence? Does the truth about what happened at the time really not matter to you?"

He was shaking with indignation.

\- "Don't you want to know how your son, your blood, was forced step by step to his death? Don't you want to ask why he asked them to read three times the execution edict?"

\- "ENOUGH!" roared the King. "I don't want to hear anything about this!"

\- "Does your Majesty not want to hear it... or are you _afraid_ to hear it?" Merlin went on with the same intense expression. "If you really had _known_ Prince Leon, you'd never have believed he could betray you, and if you really knew Arthur, you would also know that he will _never_ take the throne against your will. Thirteen years ago, jealousy blinded you, Your Majesty, as it is still blinding you today!"

Uther Pendragon stumbled. Then his face hardened again, he clenched his fists, waved his arm violently, flapping his black silk sleeves.

\- "Balinor had all the military power in his hands, he was arrogant, he was always defying my authority – that _is_ a fact!" he yelled. "He kept putting aside the people I was sending him, he trusted only the men recommended by Leon."

His pride was kicking in, he no longer feared that clear, terribly accusing gaze.

\- "During battles, he often said " _on the front line, a commander-in-chief must be able to take decisions even if they go against the orders of the king_ "! He quoted furiously. "How could I be indulgent in regard to such insolence?"

Merlin had not try to interrupt him, but Uther did not dare to look at him, he let his resentment intoxicate him, feed his anger, convince him that he had never sinned, that he had had no other choice than to act as he had done so.

\- "And Prince Leon! The courtiers were worshipping him! He was gathering the ministers around him outside the castle, he was controlling them," he continued with desperate irony. "In their daily reports, they kept writing: " _Prince Leon said... Prince Leon wants... Prince Leon thought..._ "

He paused, breathless and furious.

\- "He was both my son and a subject, but he was constantly challenging me. He criticized my way of governing, he was always saying "for the country"! _For the country_ ," snorted the king, sarcastically. "Tell me, is this country mine or Leon's?"

\- "The country is the country of the people!" Merlin replied in a fiery voice that admitted no contradiction. "If it's not _for_ the people, what's the use of a king? If it's not _for the country_ , what's the need for a ruler?"

His eyes darkened, he clenched his fists.

\- "Prince Leon's reputation was won by righteousness, courage, and hard work," he rasped. "Whenever he had an opinion different from your Majesty's, he expressed it openly, never resorting to ill speeches behind your back."

He stared at the King with an expression in which there was more pity than judgment.

\- "But you regarded his honesty as an offense, his efforts as shenanigans. When he drank the poison in the prison, how sad he must have been..."

Uther Pendragon staggered, overwhelmed. He was not crying, but his face was devastated by guilt and remorse.

\- "I guess it's difficult for Your Majesty to understand," Merlin went on slowly. "But if only because he was your son and because he never rebelled, even after being sentenced to death, can't you reinvestigate this case?"

His sadness was palpable.

\- "The knights were fighting in the snow and the cold, far from the capital, giving their lives to protect our borders, and you ordered a massacre on a mere murmur of suspicion. Now there is strong evidence to justify their innocence, won't you reopen the case? _Do you not have any regrets?_ "

It was almost a scream.

The king kept silent for a long moment, then his shoulders sagged and an expression of deep weariness washed over his suddenly aged features. He turned, pointing with a trembling hand at the throne behind him.

\- "It's not that I was born without a heart..." he stammered. "But it changes you. Power changes you."

He patted the dragon-shaped armrest, his throat knotted, looking up at the scarlet dais on the ceiling as if to contemplate all the decisions made over the years. Then his gaze, in which there was a burst of pride, turned to the wizard.

\- "Remember: no matter how Arthur is now, when he'll sit on the throne, he'll change too," he warned, lowering his voice.

Merlin shook his head.

\- "As a father, you did not know Leon, and you know even less about Arthur," he answered in a voice full of confidence. "He's different from you. Your Majesty wanted the power and fought for this throne, but Arthur only has the people in his heart and knows to surround himself with good people. He will bear this crown like a burden and protect the country. He will fulfill his brother's dream, he will restore prosperity and glory to Camelot."

The silence stretched again. The sun was still bright and you could even hear the cicadas thrumming outside, but the cold shadow in the throne room engulfed the grimacing armors at the foot of the pillars, slid in the folds of the dusty draperies, gave a dangerous gleam to the jewels in the orbits of the dragons.

Uther Pendragon finally sighed deeply.

\- "Very well," he said, running a weary hand through his gray hair. "What you all want, I will do. I will allow the reopening of the case and a new trial. I will even personally announce it to the Court and to the people."

He paused and suddenly, on his face, all traces of regret and sadness vanished. His eyes narrowed, gleaming wickedly, and he snickered.

\- "But I have one condition."

Merlin did not flinch. He had expected it, he was prepared.

\- "Whatever happens, Arthur is my son," said the king harshly. "But you... it's _different_."

He drew in a breath, took a few steps while straightening his back.

\- "Too much blood has already been shed, so I will not kill you. But to let you stand here in the Court, to let you marry my daughter... that's not possible."

He turned sharply to the wizard, as if fearing the young man would stab his back.

\- "Do you understand?"

Merlin nodded slowly.

\- "I understand."

Uther Pendragon stared at him for a few seconds in disbelief. He moved closer, tilting his head to the side.

\- "And Arthur? And Freyja?" he worried almost childishly. " _They_ will not understand, they will not accept."

The wizard stared at him with a strange expression, a mixture of pity and repulsion.

\- "I will convince them," he said. He hesitated, then continued, as if a burst of pride drove him to explain himself. "It was never my intention to stay after the conclusion of this affair. I knew Your Majesty would never allow the return of Emrys of Ealdor, because people would then have pointed out forever the errors committed by the King in the past."

His blue eyes were looking at the old man as if they were seeing the depths of his soul. The King shuddered violently.

\- "Do not worry. Starting today, you and I will never have to meet again", Merlin concluded coldly.

Then he turned on his heels and without a bow, without a word, he went back to the large open doors at the end of the throne room. He had almost reached them when a trembling voice halted him in his tracks.

\- "Wait!"

He froze, but did not turn around. Behind him, Uther Pendragon had taken a few steps, he was reaching out almost in spite of himself, suddenly gripped by a terrible feeling of fright, as if letting the young man leave without having said the words that were never asked from him was going to condemn him to a fate worse than death.

But he could not bring himself to say them.

The sun pouring into the room was dazzling him and elongating the wizard's dark shadow on the crimson carpet.

\- "You must believe me," stammered the King. "I was deceived by these villains..."

He searched for his words, sniffling.

\- "Balinor supported me for years... I held you in my arms when you were born..."

It was not like his heart was finally touched, it was just a frenzy to get the forgiveness he could not grant, to free himself from the guilt that was suddenly suffocating him...

\- "I taught you to ride, I gave you your first horse…"

He stifled a sob, dropped to his knees.

 _Was he playing a part? Was he sincere? Had he persuaded himself that he really felt pangs of remorse? Only the dragons could have said, them who had contemplated him since he had sat on the throne for the first time, fifty years before..._

Merlin had not moved. He was shaking, his dilated eyes fixed on the wooden threshold in front of him.

\- "I flew kites with you…" Uther continued in a strangled voice. "You were like another son to me…"

Shuddering, Emrys stiffened, as burning tears welled up in his red-rimmed eyes.

\- "Don't you remember?" stammered the King.

But only the silence answered him.

Very pale but his jaws clenched, Merlin crossed the threshold without a look back and disappeared in the light, while deep in the dark room only remained the old man who was sobbing bitterly, on his knees at the foot of the throne.

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up:_** ** _FALLEN LEAVES_**


	19. Fallen Leaves

**FALLEN LEAVES**

* * *

Autumn was bathing Camelot in warm golden colors when the results of the new investigation were published.

Mordred had been sent to the cursed Fortress of Ismere – they were still looking for Agravaine who was sentenced to death. Extensive inquiries had been carried out, placards posted, decrees proclaimed. Survivors and witnesses had flocked from everywhere, new evidence had been found, revelations made. The final decision could no longer be questioned.

After fourteen years, the innocence of Prince Leon and the army of the Earl of Ealdor was finally established.

The castle was draped in black veils and white carnations and the knell rang throughout the city. Incandescent butterflies fluttered up uninterruptedly for three days from the altars on which servants took turns to burn magic herbs as mourning rites required.

Uther Pendragon watched from the balcony the titles granting and the speeches. He presided his eldest son funeral, but he did not accompany the procession to Lake _Avalon_ , where the souls of the deceased knights would be sent to the afterlife following the tradition, and went back inside, leaving alone the Queen who was still prostrated in front of the pyre in the middle of the Court of Honor.

The night was beginning to fall when the ceremony began.

The banks of the lake were overflowing with people. Courtiers, servants, ministers, peasants, nobles, merchants were squeezed against each other without any regards to status. On the beach, the families, humble, poor, pale, represented only a small cluster of people in mourning clothes. Sometimes were heard sniffles or muffled sobs, but that was all. Earlier, apart from the obligatory "Long live the King" regularly shouted by a herald, no acclamation either had been uttered when the parchments marked with the royal seal and the compensation gold had been solemnly handed to those who, for so long, had been considered traitors, hunted down and executed without mercy.

On the pier, Arthur felt his throat tighten as he embraced the sight of the survivors of the royal army gathered in front of him. Out of seventy battalions, only twenty were left, the others being symbolized by their banners floating gently in the evening breeze. Most of the rows were empty: sometimes there was only one crippled man left to represent his comrades fallen in the Northern Mountains. Many of these grave, chiseled faces bore scars and marks of a life of pain and bitterness.

Of the seven hundred or so survivors, more than half wore on their coats, at heart level, a silver brooch that was not entirely regulatory, in the shape of a plum blossom, discreetly stating their belonging to the _Alliance of the East River_.

In front of the prince, among the few surviving officers, Lancelot stood with Perceval: they had both been elevated to the rank of general and looked great in their polished armors, their helmets tucked under the arm, their scarlet cloaks draped on their shoulders.

The first stars were lighting up on the dark vault when the little boats, loaded with flowers, fruits and small objects belonging to the deceased knights, were pushed on the cold water. Arthur picked up the first arrow, set the tip on fire in the brazier in front of him, then hesitated, glancing at the black and white canopy under which the families were gathered.

As the King had ordered, Emrys of Ealdor was not on the list of survivors. Merlin was just a wizard who had no connection with the slaughtered army and was present only as a guest. He was the only one sitting on a stool and Daegal was stuck to him, shielding him from curious looks and whispers.

Arthur, indignant, wanted his best friend to be at least allowed to shoot the arrow that would set on fire the boat bearing his father's name, but Uther Pendragon had not yielded. Until the end, Emrys would be stripped of his identity, of his title, even of the gestures that would have allowed him to honor the memory of those he had lost – and whose innocence he had redeemed at a great price...

Merlin gently tilted his chin and Arthur nodded in response. He breathed deeply, raised the bow, drew it and released the arrow. It flew off without hesitation, traced a golden curve in the twilight sky and then the little boat ignited, alone in the dark.

Gwaine and the knights followed the prince and soon hundreds, thousands of fiery arrows illuminated the night, reflecting like shooting stars on the black surface of the lake, and set on fire the departing small vessels.

The autumn wind had risen and was carrying to the North, with the glowing sparks and ashes, a garland of crimson fallen leaves.

Under the black and white canopy, the families were weeping, but there were no tears on Merlin's face. His eyes blazing, his face pale but his back very straight, he was watching what he had worked for during fourteen years, silently bidding farewell to his brothers-in-arms.

Daegal alone could have told of his master's deep emotion, him whose hand was being crushed by the wizard.

The boats had sunk to the bottom of the lake where they would rest for eternity and the flames were finally dying out in the night. In the distance, the knell resounded again.

The moon had risen. One last boat, almost invisible in the dark, was still dancing gently on the silver-rimmed waves. On the table in front of Arthur, only one arrow was left, but he could not bring himself to pick it up.

 _Emrys._

Suddenly, the seven hundred survivors of the royal army turned as one man towards the canopy and saluted at the same time, in a clatter of armors, proudly lifting their chin and clasped hands.

They did not say a word, but their bright eyes were fixed on Merlin.

After a few moments, they resumed their original position in a magnificent movement of unity and let out together a clamor of victory, raising their banners.

Then Arthur knew that whatever Uther Pendragon would order or do, he would never be able to bury the name of the young captain of the _Scarlet Wings_.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

Weeks had gone by and almost everything had been packed in the house on _Caltrop Street_. The preparations for the journey were going well, despite the many times the bell rang at the door: awed knights wanting to pay their respects, families leaving gifts under the porch and fleeing before the door opened, old mothers wishing to hear about their dead son, young widows bringing their children to bow to the one who had cleared the names of their fathers, members of the _Alliance of the East River_ coming to pick up their orders or to give their leave, excited at the new life offered to them.

Gaius ranted a lot, but he always let in the people who showed up on the doorstep.

Merlin was greeting everyone with a smile, silencing the thanks, patting the children's heads and letting the silently crying old women squeeze his hands. Sometimes the men could not utter a word and could only remain standing, their head down, their throat swelled with tears. He did not speak either: he knew, he had been through the same hell.

 _He did not know that most of the time they were swallowing back their sorrow when they saw their heroic captain so diminished, so changed._

The members of the _Caltrop Street_ household, on the other hand, were holding their breath, marveling. They had feared the patient would collapse after reaching his goal, but on the contrary, he seemed much better. He was laughing at Daegal's and Gwaine's antics. To Gwen's great delight, he had better appetite too. And when Freyja came by – through the secret passage from her brother's personal residence – he was always trying to cheer her up, talking about writing to her every day during the journey, making plans as if he were going to live another ten years.

The princess fiercely believed he would. She was sorting his books with him, folding his robes in a military way and piling them in the trunks that were then redone by a dismayed Lancelot. She was baking disastrous pastries that filled the house with bursts of laughter. And sometimes, when the wizard felt too sick and tired to pretend, and Gaius ordered him to rest, she would just sit by his bed and tell him about the wonderful life they would have when they could finally get married: _the King would eventually change his mind, what were one or two more years after fourteen years of waiting?_

He fell asleep smiling and he never got nightmares anymore.

Perceval had too many things to do to think of sweeping the courtyard and dead leaves were piling up against the wall of the garden, starring in gold and crimson the lawn and the stone slabs. They were swirling down, landing softly and lightly stirring the surface of the pond. The carps pecked them then went back to hide in the waterlilies, with a sharp red tail movement.

The weather was mild, although often foggy at dawn. Merlin could still read outside at the small stone table, his shoulders warmed by the blonde light of late afternoon, while Daegal and Kilga played hide and seek among the boxes – much to Gwen's despair – or lounged in the old plum tree.

One of those days, Arthur stepped over a trunk full of books and trinkets wrapped in rags and cast a look around, at once amused and appalled at the disorder that reigned in the room ordinarily so well ordered.

He had managed to escape a few hours from the castle where he now assumed most of the government's duties. Uther Pendragon was gradually retiring from the Court, leaving to the Crown Prince the care of managing the affairs of the kingdom. It was said the king, whose health was failing, deteriorated by age and many years of excess of all kinds, would soon abdicate in favor of his son.

Arthur could not count on any of his brothers now, and it would not have occurred to him to have his sisters meddle with politics: Freyja, certainly, had experience in military campaigns, but she had never been very subtle when it came to negotiations: she preferred to lead a good battle head on. As for Morgause... Arthur rather feared when she invited herself to the councils: in between her mockery and her endless questions, she was confusing the poor ministers!

Something else was bothering him about his second sister, but he could not put his finger on it, and that was why he had come to _Caltrop Street_ that day.

Merlin smiled and put down his book when he saw Arthur. He pulled his cloak back up his shoulder from which it had slid and pointed to the second stone stool on the other side of the table.

\- "One of the few things that won't need to be packed while you're using them," he joked.

The familiarity had returned little by little between them, over the months. At first, sometimes, Arthur had had to scold to get his best friend to call him by his name...

\- "How's your health?" asked the prince.

Merlin rolled his eyes.

\- "I'm _fine_ ," he said, pretending to be exasperated. "I have not felt so fit for years. You guys will be the ones who'll end up exhausted by fussing over me too much."

Arthur nibbled his lips, only half convinced, then he reached out, scooped up the book and flipped through it. Merlin relaxed, leaning more comfortably in his seat and closed his eyes, savoring the caress of the autumn sun.

\- "Are these annotations from your hand? Did you ever travel to all these places?" marveled the prince.

The wizard reopened his eyes.

\- "I had to move often during these twelve years", he said nonchalantly. Then he straightened up, his eyes shining. "I wish you could have seen some of these things! The _Silver Dragon_ on the shores of Meredor, for example: the waves are covered with foam and they roll on like a stampede of hundreds of horses sputtering salt water! It looks like an army of ghosts rising from the depths of the sea... Daegal was absolutely terrified! He had climbed a tree and it took us hours to bring him down. Fortunately I had one of Mother Finna's pies with me – oh, and by the way, you _have_ to try one of these someday, they're to damn yourself – otherwise I think our local puck would still be..."

He broke off, surprised, when Arthur burst out laughing.

\- "Oh, you're fine indeed, I can see that", grinned the prince. "When you start rambling about food..."

He did not have time to finish his sentence because Daegal ran to them at that moment, looking completely distraught.

\- "Wont' wake up!" he panted.

\- "Ah, there you are," said Merlin, frowning. "Where have you been? You know you must not disturb Lancelot and the others, don't you? They have lots of work to do."

Daegal shook his head frantically.

\- "Nap, hiding," he explained feverishly. Then he pulled on his master's sleeve, imploring him with his big round eyes. "Come!"

The two men stood up, exchanging a worried glance. The prince's hand instinctively slipped towards his belt where he always hid a dagger. Merlin's cloak slid to the ground when he leaned to grab the young bodyguard's shoulders, searching the pubescent features that were twisted by the anguish of a child.

\- "What's going on, Daegal? What happened? You were in the old cellar taking a nap and... ? What happened then? What did you see? Is this something you've heard?"

\- "Kilga!" exclaimed the boy with despair. "Won't wake up!"

His ponytail slapped the wizard's face when he turned his head anxiously to point at the direction he had come from, taking a step as if to run back there.

\- "Celot say, Kilga always sleep!" he stammered. He turned again to his master. "Come, wake up Kilga!"

Merlin finally figured out what had happened. His eyes clouded up with sadness, he straightened up and compassionately squeezed the neck of the panicked young bodyguard.

It took a few extra seconds for Arthur to get it too. His heart clenched painfully and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but then changed his mind. He reached out silently, touched his best friend's back in a silent gesture of comfort.

\- "Come", Daegal insisted, grabbing the wizard's hand and pulling him resolutely toward the house.

But at that moment, Lancelot came out, carrying Kilga. He kneeled, laid down the winged panther on the wooden terrace, then gently stroked the black muzzle. Daegal ran to his friend, lifted her head and then stared at her as it fell back, limp.

\- "She must have died in her sleep like a very, very old soldier," said the former knight sadly. "Don't be sad, Daegal, her bones were cranking, she couldn't eat well anymore… it's better for her to be where she is now."

The child frowned.

\- "Not sleep! Play with me", he protested.

Merlin slowly came to him, put his arm around his shoulders.

\- "She's dead, Daegal. Lancelot's right, she won't wake up. She does not suffer anymore. It's all right, it's natural. All things have to end."

He hesitated, gently stroked the boy's tousled hair, then continued in a voice that did not shake.

\- "I too, someday, will fall asleep and not wake up anymore."

Daegal's round eyes widened, terrified.

\- "No, no!" he cried, tying his arms fiercely around the wizard's waist.

Lancelot had to turn his head away while Merlin hugged Daegal.

\- "You will be okay, Daegal... it'll be difficult at first, but then, you'll see, you'll only remember the good times you had... At first, when you'll look at the fallen leaves, you'll cry. But then, in time, you'll remember how she loved to scatter them with you and how you two drove Perceval mad with that – and it'll bring a smile to your face again."

He kissed the top of the small shuddering head of the boy who did not understand what he was feeling and was clinging to him like a life buoy.

\- "It'll be the same with me. You will look for me under the old plum tree, but I won't be there... peaches will perhaps taste salty and hazelnut pastries might suddenly seem bland, you won't love the snow anymore... but then, little by little, all the memories we had together will come back to you and it'll be as if I were with you again..."

Behind them, his jaws grinding, his blue eyes burning with tears under his blonde bangs, Arthur wanted to scream that these sweet words were nothing but chimeras, that once the ones you loved had left they never returned and that nothing, _nothing_ could ever replace them...

But Daegal needed to believe in these words.

He lifted his head, leaned his angular chin against the wizard's chest, and blew to get rid of the ponytail that was sweeping his face.

\- "Promise?" he asked, full of hope.

Merlin smiled.

\- "Promise", he answered.

Daegal thought for a moment, then he pulled away from his master, trusting, and went back to the panther, pensively ran his fingers over the rough feathers of the ebony wings.

\- "Lancelot's going to help you make a bed for her to sleep comfortably," Merlin said, glancing at the former knight, who nodded knowingly. "Kilga will be happy if you put her favorite toy in there too."

Daegal's childish eyes lit up and he went off like an arrow to fetch the toy. Then only the wizard staggered and abruptly sat, fumbling to catch himself on the edge of the terrace. Lancelot and Arthur rushed to help him, but he raised a hand to halt them.

He gazed long at the old winged panther lying on the wooden planks; reached out to scratch in between the fluffy ears but did not in the end, tentatively touched one of the paws that death was already stiffening.

He flinched when Arthur put his cloak on his shoulders.

\- "Do you remember when we saved her?" asked the prince in a hoarse voice that was meant to be light, his hand lingering on his friend's shoulder. "She was just a little pest full of sharp teeth, that's why you claimed she would be my birthday present."

Merlin chortled and almost choked. Tears overflowed on his face and he wiped them off furiously with his sleeve.

\- "It's so stupid", he stammered. "She's just a panther and she lived seventeen years – not all creatures do, not even magical ones! Why am I crying when for my brothers in arms, my father… I…"

Arthur shook his head gently and his strong and comforting hand gently squeezed the bony shoulder of his friend.

\- "It's all right", he said in a low voice. "No one's judging you. You've held back your tears for a long time, Emrys. Maybe this is Kilga's last gift to you..."

He did not move, remained stoic, his eyes on the terrace, on the panther, as the evening breeze ruffled the black feathers, as the tawny sun went out in the garden, while Merlin wept quietly beside him... giving in finally, after fourteen years, to the grief he had ran from for so long.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

The rain began to fall during the night and it did not stop for several days. It drummed on the roof continuously and beaded on the bare branches of the trees, tapping on the pond and clinging to Daegal's eyelashes when he stretched his neck from under the awning to see if it would soon stop. The gutters carried dead leaves and clogged, pouring streams into the streets. Steam was rising on the wet garden and the white sky was very low.

\- "We're going to get snow even before it's winter," Gwen complained as she gathered on a tray the teapot, cups and some cakes.

\- "I hope it won't", Gaius said gloomily. He took off his glasses, wiped them absentmindedly and put them back on. "We cannot risk getting bogged down before we get to Essetir, he won't be able to endure a night outside."

\- "Well, we can push back our departure _again_ ", said the young woman from the door, with a sassy spark in her eyes. "It's not like Merlin is in a hurry to leave and I know at least two other people who won't complain if we do."

The old doctor only groaned something inaudible. He was going to follow her when they heard a thunder of hooves and cries of fright in the street.

\- "What's going on now?" Gwen mumbled, a bit worried.

\- "Another one who doesn't know the Crown Prince forbade galloping through the streets of the city", grumbled Gaius and he grabbed his bag, hastily put on his shoes and threw a hood on his shoulders, intending to go see if someone had been hurt.

But he was never to know what had happened in the street because before he could reach the door, Perceval, dripping with rain, barged in and ran across the inner courtyard, rushing under the arcades to Merlin's room.

He burst in, out of breath, and exclaimed:

\- "Camelot is under attack! Messages are coming from all our borders! Prince Arthur wants you to come right away!"

* * *

 ** _TBC_**

* * *

 ** _Next chapter coming up:_** ** _CHOICE_**


	20. Choice

**CHOICE**

* * *

Even during all the years he had had to bear humiliation and restrain his anger at the bad decisions his father made, Arthur had never been as frustrated as he was now.

It was a disaster.

They had lost their most important fortress on the border of Essetir: Agravaine sat there, sneering as he cleaned his teeth with a cuttlebone. In Mercia, the harbor fleet had been sold to the enemy by Morgause, who was already proclaiming herself empress. As for the rebellion roaring in Nemeth, it spread wider every day, led by the Marquis rallied behind an Alined greedier than ever.

Mordred had died from his wounds after escaping from the Salt Mines to heroically report Caerleon's army invading the Northern Mountains.

Unexpectedly, Morgan had volunteered to defend his country. _But what general would accept such a man into his ranks when two other members of the royal family were sowing death and misery in their own country?_

\- "I'll take our brother with me to the South", Freyja said, proudly raising her chin and staring back at the dark faces around her. "I don't trust him, but I will not deprive him of a chance to atone for his crimes, if that's what he wants. The white dragon has come back and obeys his words, it will be of great help to us in Mercia."

Arthur nodded, silencing the whispers with an imperious gesture and the discussion returned to what seemed obvious to him.

The rain was hammering the windows, making the scene even more gloomy.

\- "We need a victory to raise the morale of the troops," repeated the prince. "Our men are few in numbers, that is true, but what we're really missing is a proper commander-in-chief. I'll-"

This time he struggled to appease the outcry that arose – including his sister's voice. Sir Geoffroy of Monmouth spoke on behalf of all.

\- "You cannot go, Your Highness. The king is old and weak. If you step away from the throne, Camelot will sink into chaos."

\- "They are right," said a voice in the back of the room. "The crown prince's place is in the capital. Our troops in Mercia have fought long with Princess Freyja: no one is better suited than her to win them back and reclaim our southern ports. To the West, I suggest your Highness send Knight-General Perceval: with his guerrilla experience, he will soon control the rebellion there."

Arthur's knuckles turned white when his fingers tightened on his seat's armrests as the slender figure emerged from the shadows and stepped into the sulfurous light of the candles, the ministers moving aside to make room for the newcomer.

The prince _knew_ Merlin had been there from the beginning, quietly studying the map pinned to the wall, but he had tried to forget his presence, dreading and hoping at the same time the intervention of the brilliant wizard who was also his friend too sick to attend such a meeting.

\- "The _Alliance of the East River_ will not stay idle while peace is threatened in the forests of Essetir. Our army there can count on it for reinforcement."

Merlin paused and his blue eyes looked at Arthur who was listening with his mouth dry, as if they were alone in the room.

\- "It leaves only the North."

Freyja frowned, feeling a chill run down her spine, but the ministers nodded, reassured, and the military officers felt their courage renewing.

\- "Caerleon isn't Morgause's ally. He took advantage of the situation and rushed into our lands with only fifty thousand soldiers, which means he only wants a quick victory that will give him the advantage to negotiate for the provinces he lost fourteen years ago. He is not prepared for a long fight and if we annihilate his troops, we can force him to withdraw. But his magic is not to be underestimated. We must send there a general who can speak to the ancestral dragon of Camelot and have the Great Beast back up our knights. Your Highness can not go, so-"

The prince stood up and made an imperious gesture to silence the young man.

\- "Leave me alone with Sir Merlin", he ordered.

Freyja left too, in the confused murmur of the ministers. She had turned very pale and her eyes gave a mute supplication to her brother before the doors closed on her.

How dark it was, suddenly… The dampness of this late autumn was penetrating to the heart of the palace.

Arthur marched to his friend and grabbed his shoulders abruptly.

\- "This is out of question!" he hissed.

\- "I have not said anything yet," teased Merlin softly.

It did not make the Prince laugh. His blue eyes were blazing.

\- "I don't care what you're going to say! I will _not_ let you go to the battlefield", he growled.

The wizard let out a sigh.

\- "I know you're worried about my health," he said calmly. "But did Gaius not tell you that I was doing much better? How, in this situation, could I think only of myself?"

Arthur stepped aside, refusing to listen, but Merlin went on slowly.

\- "The Northern Mountains are the battlefield I'm most familiar with. For years, I've kept an eye on Caerleon. You're the future king, you _know_ you've got to send your best candidate for this task. And the person who knows that enemy best, the only one the Great Beast who hates the Pendragon will bow to, the general you need... is Emrys of Ealdor."

In the silence that followed, the prince's heart slowed to almost stop, and he finally stifled a broken laugh, upon hearing almost distinctly the wizard's heart pounding wildly.

It was so cold, in this dark room scarcely lit by the candles that smoked too much, with the map hanging like a dead creature on the wall.

\- "Very well. If your doctor can assure me that you're in good health, then I'll let you go", Arthur finally said, daring his friend to lie to him.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

Gaius looked suspiciously at them when he entered and discovered the two men waiting for him. The prince did not move, only greeted him with a brief nod, but Merlin hurried to the old man.

None of them noticed that someone else had come in the room.

The doctor refused to sit down in the presence of royal blood - especially in a chair that looked like the stool of a culprit in front of the two men. He shook his umbrella, leaving a puddle of water on the floor, wiped his glasses and tied his hands behind his back, hiding under his usual air of discontentment the terrible anxiety that was suddenly gripping him as he guessed the reason behind his summons to the palace.

\- "What can I do for Your Highness?" he grunted.

\- "At this moment, Camelot is threatened from all sides. All the best officers have already gone to the front, but we need someone to stand up to King Caerleon on the Northern Border. Only I can fight this battle", Merlin said in his most serene and convincing tone.

The old man let out a snort. He made a small gesture towards the dripping windows.

\- "Winter is upon us. The cold will be even more terrible in the Northern Mountains. How long do you think your body will hold?"

The wizard did not hesitate.

\- "Three months," he replied quietly.

Something fell loudly and scattered on the floor when the prince rushed forward to grab his friend by the shoulders for the second time of the day.

 _\- "Three months!"_

\- "Gaius is a skillful healer. If I'd do nothing but rest, I could certainly live another six months, maybe even a year, but..."

\- "Three months!" repeated the prince incredulously.

Under his tan, he had turned deathly pale. He staggered and it was the wizard who had to support him for a moment. Haggard, the young man looked around as if seeking help, from the pieces of broken armor on the flagstones to the skin map pinned on the wall, then his haunted blue eyes came back to his friend.

\- "The old case is closed. You've done enough. You can lay down your burden", he stuttered. His voice choked and he stepped back, ran a hand through his blond hair, trying to get back a semblance of his usual unfazed authority. "Do you really have to take all the world's problems on your shoulders? Let me take care of that. You... you have to get better first, to get married... Don't give up now, _please_."

Gaius, who had finally sat down, felt his heart squeeze painfully at this pitiful denial.

\- "I'm not giving up," the wizard said firmly. "I lived as Merlin for fourteen years. My mission is over, it's true. But _I'm not dead_ and Emrys still has duties! I'm a general's son. How could I stay doing nothing when the fires of war are raging on my country? My magic has been dormant for years, it will only be more stunning. I _know_ I can help in this situation. Why can't you understand? Can't you give me these three months?"

The prince turned away abruptly.

\- "Then what happens _after_ these three months?" he asked hoarsely.

Agitated by his violent desire to convince the prince, Merlin paced back and forth, making the crackling flames on the bronze candlesticks shudder.

\- "In three months, I will have won the battle and consolidated our defenses in the North. Perceval will have stifled the revolt in the West, Freyja raised back our flags in the South, the Alliance taken care of Agravaine. After that, we'll only have to organize our armies to protect the borders. Camelot will have reclaimed its reputation as a military force for the next twenty or thirty years..."

\- "I'm talking about _you_!" Arthur snapped. "What will happen to _you_ after three months?"

Merlin did not answer and the prince, beside himself, turned to Gaius who shook his head sadly.

\- "If he goes there – especially if he uses his magic – he will surely die."

\- "So what?" the wizard suddenly yelled, making them both jump.

His blue eyes were glittering with tears of frustration.

\- " _I am_ Emrys! I am _still_ Emrys, even though fourteen years have passed! I'm still the captain of the Scarlet Wings, the son of Balinor - _Emrys of Ealdor_!"

A desperate sob choked in his voice.

\- "I want to return to the battlefield where I fought last time. I want to ride my horse and lead an army to save my country. I want to use the magic with which I was born. That's what I am, that's where I belong. I have the right to die wearing my armor!"

He was shaking.

And Arthur, despite of the pain and the sorrow that were throttling him, could not bring himself to be the one who would rip his friend of the last thing that had not yet been taken from him.

 _His pride._

He closed his eyes, nodded, made a royal gesture as if someone, somewhere, would seal in a book his words - this terrible decision.

\- "Very well", he said. "It's your choice. You have the right to do what you want, after all, it's true. But Gwaine will go with you and that's my last word."

Then he turned his back on his friend, strode towards the door without looking back, unable to hold back the tears that were burning down his cheeks.

He did not see the small figure leaning against a column in the darkness, like a longing ghost.

\- "It's the first time in fourteen years that I've heard you make a selfish request," Gaius said slowly as the door fell closed, smothering the steady sound of rain in the corridors.

He got up with the help of the armrests, went to Merlin and, gently, guided him to the chair, made him sit down and took his pulse.

The wizard had closed his eyes. He was very pale and clenched his hand on his chest. A black curl was sticking on his damp forehead.

\- "How is it selfish to want to fight and die for my country?" he gasped with a broken little laugh.

\- "Fourteen years of separation is very long," said the old doctor gently. "And having to say goodbye again, without knowing if we'll meet again, it's too cruel... For him, for you, for everyone... for the princess too."

He hesitated, then bowed very deep and backed quietly at the gesture of the person who had approached quietly.

\- " _The western winds sail across the mountains, bringing rain. We must endure separation. When will the fires of war quiet down? The river of time washes away defeats and victories, her love remains the same_ , "said a voice loaded with emotion.

The young man immediately opened his eyes, recognizing his mother's favorite poem and the person who was reciting it – and who had learned it with him and Arthur a long time ago, when they were still young enough to be taught by the royal preceptor.

Stricken, he realized that she must had heard everything and he started to stammer - _but what could he say? He did not know. What excuse could he give her? Did he_ really _had to apologize for wanting to be himself again?_

Freyja softly smiled at him, despite the tears streaming down on her face, and he knew she had already forgiven him.

\- " _The kingdom is still young, but she has aged. To the wild geese flying towards the South, she entrusts her heart. The candles are spent but her tears will not dry. Everything fades into a dream. Time flows and now she is gone too, but that pure feeling has stayed behind_ ", she concluded.

In a gracious motion, she knelt at the wizard's feet and lovingly wrapped the long thin hands in her so small though so strong hands.

\- "For a long time, I did not understand what was so moving in these verses", she whispered, lifting her beautiful brown eyes and looking at her fiancé with love and trust. "Now I know and I'll wait for you – forever."

The veils of silk in her dress were spread around her like the petals of a white camellia. Braided in her chestnut hair, pearls were shimmering, as bright as the tears on her cheeks.

For the first time, he realized that she had changed. The pretty girl he had fallen in love with fourteen years before was now a woman – and the beauty of this woman who loved him was not going to be everlasting. It would fade with time and some day she would be no different from what he was: a heart still burning in an envelope more fragile than paper...

Freyja gave a small, light laugh, in which there was no bitterness.

\- "We've always been peculiar, haven't we? We could never be a normal couple in this life. You have chosen to serve our country and you will do it as long as it is necessary. But don't forget your promise: when the war is over, you will come to get me and we will go on a journey together."

He leaned over and helped her up, kissed her forehead.

\- "I'll write to you every day," he whispered. "I'll still love you, even when everything will have turn into memories and ashes. Every time you'll see the wild geese flying to the south, remember that I have not forgotten you."

\- "I love you, Emrys," she breathed.

And she smiled bravely, because she was a general, Princess of Camelot, the fiancée of the captain of the Scarlet Wings.

Then she buried her face in his chest and he held her tightly in his arms as she sobbed her heart out, her quivering fingers clutching the wizard's blue robes, because she would not marry the one she loved, because she would never give birth to his child, because she knew only too well the painful void that his absence was going to carve in her.

The last candle flickered, small flitting flame alone in the dark room. The night had fallen. The rain behind the windows had turned into snow fluttering gently over the gray city that was preparing for war.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

On the eve before the grand departure, Arthur came through the secret passage with a small sandalwood box which he put next to him while he was eating the last batch of hazelnut pastries prepared by Gwen, sitting with Merlin who was calmly drinking his tea, surrounded by his trunks and his books ready to be sent to the East.

The wizard's vermilion armor was arranged on a wooden rack, as if a warrior was waiting silently, standing in the shadows. His baggage for the North had already left, with Lancelot who was sleeping that evening at the officers' quarters.

Even if there was still furniture, the manor on _Caltrop Street_ suddenly seemed empty: the tapestries had been unhooked from the walls, dust was velveting the shelves stripped of ornaments, a forgotten toy lay in a corner where a spider had started to make its web.

Soon it would be nothing more than an abandoned house with a garden filled with weeds and bushy shrubs, and no one would ever again climb over the wall to steal plum blossoms in the garden next door…

When Daegal asked what was in the mysterious little box, Arthur opened it, revealing a huge pinkish translucent pearl.

Merlin laughed, but when he reached out to take it, the prince quickly retrieved the box.

\- "It's a gift for my best friend," he said. "I promised I'll give it to him when he comes back."

The wizard said nothing for a moment, then he leaned over, whispered a short order to the child who disappeared into the tunnel and came back almost immediately, clutching something in his fist that shone brightly.

\- "So if you do not mind, I'll take this instead," Merlin said.

Arthur stared at the silver bell that the little bodyguard had just put on the table between the decoction of medicinal herbs and his sword.

\- "All right," he said, his throat so tight that his words could barely make it out. "It will be easier to find you, with this. To become the king Leon dreamed of for Camelot, I need you to be by my side."

The wizard shook his head.

\- "You never needed advice to take good decisions. All you needed was to learn to dominate your impulsive character."

He smiled.

\- "And perhaps also to polish a bit your language and your image. Men, in politics, are won over differently than a troop of soldiers. But I had no doubt - and Leon had told me that once too - that you were made of the stuff of kings. Trust in yourself, Bear."

\- "Bear, o Bear," Daegal sing-sang, gobbling down his last piece of tangerine.

Merlin smiled and handed him another one. Arthur messed up the young guard's hair gently, and Daegal laughed, his cheeks swollen with his favorite dessert.

For a long time, the two men remained silent in the house where so many meetings had been held, where so many decisions had been made, where the world had begun to change.

The snow was dancing gently over the garden and Daegal soon fell asleep, curled up beside his master, a half-peeled tangerine in his abandoned hand.

\- "But you know, it's difficult," the prince said again, in a barely audible voice, as dawn was coming. "This is the first time I have to watch you go to battle while I'm staying behind."

\- "I know," said Emrys.

Then he got up and let his friend dress him for war.

* * *

oOoOoOo

* * *

Colorful garlands were hanging from side to side of the streets in between the slate roofs. The wooden balconies were crowded with people cheering for the soldiers and the knights.

Some women were crying, throwing silk handkerchiefs and flowers; excited children were running with rattle drums; old men were cheering and the beer overflowing from clinking cups glittered for a moment in the light.

The ground was trembling at the feet of the stone city walls with the rhythm of the drums. Banners were slamming high in the immense blue sky and the sound of the horns was vibrating in the air.

Then, in the great white plain, the three armies parted. One hundred and seventy thousand men marched off martially, raising up their colorful flags, and twenty thousand horsemen clad in steel pranced away in the dazzling sun.

Gwaine, rutilant in his gilded cuirass, waved his spear at Perceval, who answered with a smile; Daegal's dappled pony scampered up to Lancelot's, who was advancing in line with the other generals, and the little bodyguard, annoyed, tugged on the too tight collar of his leather armor.

Above their heads, the disgraceful white dragon flew off to the south, while the heavy ancestral dragon, finally free from its chains, took off to the north.

The wind stirred up and ruffled the black horsehair on Merlin's golden helmet. His embroidered scarlet coat swelled up like the sail of a ship. One last time, he looked deeply at Freyja and at the city he was leaving behind, then he rode resolutely toward the destiny he had chosen.

Her eyes bright, the young woman looked at his proud back as he left, then she urged her horse on and dashed to her own troops at a gallop, like a thin silver arrow in the winter light.

Like a flower blossoming in long branches, the columns of soldiers formed arabesques as they parted and disappeared gradually into the powdery cloud of snow, only leaving behind thousands of footprints.

* * *

 ** _NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE THE LAST CHAPTER  
_**

* * *

 ** _Note : You've known for a long time about this fic being a crossover between Merlin BBC and the chinese novel _Langya Bang _, but did you recognize in the poem the lyrics of_ Aging Of A Beauty _, the beautiful soundtrack from_ Nirvana in Fire _, the series inspired from the book?_**


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